Hell's Gate
by flippinada
Summary: Buffy & Willow search for the Angel gang Post Angel series finale
1. Default Chapter

Title: Hell's Gate  
Author: flippinada  
Rating: PG13  
Summary: Buffy & Willow search for the Angel gang (Post Angel series finale)  
Author's Note: I started this fic on a whim so there's a real possibility it'll never be finished. Follows on from my previous fic "Aftermath" but not really a sequel. Feedback is always welcome.

* * *

The woman at the car rental counter looked at them as if they were crazy. "Los Angeles?" 

"That's what I said," Willow said, quelling her impatience.

The woman opened her mouth, began to speak, and stopped. She glanced around as if searching for a supervisor but there were no other employees in sight. Finally she said, "Look, I don't think you really want to go to L.A. The city's gotten real dangerous, a war zone they say."

Buffy stopped drumming her fingers on the counter. "Who says?"

"Everyone. You must've seen the news. No one goes there any more."

"Well, we're going there," Buffy said, leaning forward. "Now are you going to give us a car, or do I have to--"

She broke off when Willow touched her arm. The slayer exhaled an explosive breath and spun away. Putting on her most pathetic face, Willow turned to the woman.

"Please, we have friends there."

"I don't know..." The woman seemed uncertain. Biting her lip, she hunched over the counter and beckoned for Willow to lean closer. "They say there are monsters in L.A.," the woman said in a low voice.

Willow was touched by her concern. "Well--"

"And if the car doesn't come back in one piece..."

Oh good grief, thought Willow. She stared at the woman in disbelief. "You're worried about _the car_?"

"I'm worried about my job."

Out of the corner of her eye, Willow spotted Buffy barrelling towards them. "What will it take to change your mind?" Willow said quickly.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they peeled out of San Diego airport in a sedan and headed towards the interstate. Several wrong turns later they found the I-5 and were on their way to Los Angeles. 

Slumped in the passenger seat, Buffy grumbled, "Did you have to take all the insurance options?"

"I'm sure the Watchers Council can afford it," Willow said, keeping her eyes on the road.

Buffy opened her window, letting in a roar of warm air. Without batting an eyelid, Willow pressed the button to close it again.

"You don't want your hair getting poofy, do you?" she chirped, knowing without looking that Buffy was pouting.

A few minutes passed in silence before Buffy began fidgeting, playing with the radio and blaring music into the car. Willow grit her teeth as Buffy cycled through Christian rock, country music and heavy metal. Grimacing, Willow slapped her friend's hands away and switched the radio off. She cleared her throat.

"Buff, I know you're worried and all, but you just can't go around bullying people."

Buffy shrugged. "Works for me."

"Really not the point."

"We're on a mission here, Will. I don't have time to worry about stepping on someone's feelings, or fingers for that matter."

"I get that, but...trust me when I say having people afraid of you -- not as much fun as it's cracked up to be."

The distance between them seemed to stretch, filled with memories of the past. Then Buffy's hand squeezed Willow's where it rested on the steering wheel.

"I know," Buffy said softly. She took her hand away. "But I have to find them. I have to fix this."

Shock rippled through Willow, causing her hands to slacken for a second. Fortunately her survival instinct kicked in before she lost control of the car. She realised now why Buffy had been so driven since they'd heard the news, and she felt like a fool for not seeing it earlier.

"Buffy, this isn't your fault."

"Isn't it? If I hadn't been in such a hurry to decide Angel had gone to the dark side, if I hadn't cut him off...maybe he'd have asked for my help."

"I doubt it." Willow felt a familiar surge of frustration rise from her gut. "The big doofus didn't ask for my help either, not even when he had the chance--" Too late she realised that she'd said too much. She hoped it would go unnoticed but the slayer latched on like a vampire with his first meal.

"There was a chance? What chance? Where chance?"

Willow coughed. "Well, 'chance' is of kind of an exaggeration. What I meant was that he could've picked up the phone and--"

"Willow," Buffy said in a voice threatening imminent violence.

"Er, Buffy, remember what I said about bullying?"

"You can't bully someone who can turn you into an amoeba," Buffy countered. "And don't try to change the subject. What are you not telling me?"

Willow heard the desperation buried in Buffy's voice, and realised how close she was to breaking point.

"Okay, okay. Angel called me a month ago. He needed a glamour crystal but he wouldn't say why, just that he needed a source he could trust."

"And?"

"I dunno. There was something off about him."

"A little less with the vagueness, Will. What do you mean, off?"

Willow nibbled her lip; it wasn't easy to translate her intuitive impressions into words. After a minute she said, "It was like he was saying goodbye without actually saying it, you know?"

Buffy sighed. "Yeah." All of a sudden she went limp, looking deflated.

"I didn't want to worry you."

"I know. It's okay," Buffy said, looking away.

Willow knew it wasn't okay, but there was nothing she could say that would make it so. Instead she said, "Buffy, why don't you try to take a nap? You hardly slept on the plane."

"Need I remind you of my way too realistic nightmares, Will."

"Still, you need your beauty--"

Buffy glared at her.

"I mean, you need your rest. A sleep-deprived slayer is a pasty-faced slayer."

Turning away, Buffy stared out the window. "I won't be able to sleep until I find him...them."

Willow wondered which "him" Buffy had meant, or whether the slayer herself even knew.

"Well, you won't be much good to...them if you can't stay awake." Geez, thought Willow, when did I become my mom? "Just give it a shot, okay? I'll wake you if you get twitchy."

After a moment Buffy sighed. "Okay. But if I accidentally strangle you in my sleep, don't blame me."

"I promise I won't come back and haunt you," Willow said soothingly.

Buffy quirked her mouth, then curled up as best she could. Within minutes she was asleep, mouth open and snoring lightly.

Willow relaxed, glad to be alone with her thoughts for a time. She was afraid for Angel and the others, but even more worrying was her growing awareness of a vast gap in the fabric of the earth. The closer they got to Los Angeles the stronger she felt it; it was as if nothing lived in the city -- no humans, no demons, not even plants or animals.

She had no idea what to expect.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews.

* * *

Buffy woke in an instant, conscious of Willow's hand clutching her arm. Gently she removed Willow's hand to signal she was awake. It felt as if she'd been asleep for a couple of hours, not enough to really make a dent in her exhaustion. She sat up, shaking off her weariness. 

The car had stopped. And in her blood she felt the approach of night, the slight adrenaline rush chasing away the lethargy in her muscles. It was still light but sunset wasn't far off. Golden light illuminated a suburban street lined with apartment blocks, but vacant of people. Through the windscreen, she saw a man in a uniform marching towards them. Three more were propped against a jeep parked in the middle of the road.

All four were armed.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere near Washington Boulevard," Willow said, her voice tense. "The interstate was blocked and we had to get off." She slid her window down and flashed a smile. "Hi!"

The soldier remained stonefaced. "Sorry, ma'am, you're gonna have to turn around."

Buffy leaned forward. "We have friends in L.A."

His expression softened a little, but he shook his head. "You can't go into the city."

"But-" Buffy broke off as she spotted three people round a corner further down the road and race towards them. Fifty metres beyond the jeep the woman and two little girls stopped as abruptly as if they'd run into a brick wall and fell backwards. Cold needles prickled the back of Buffy's neck as she watched the woman yank the crying children to their feet and begin flinging herself at some kind of invisible barrier.

"What..." Buffy swallowed, "what the hell is that?"

The soldier glanced back, and said matter-of-factly, "People trying to leave the city - happens every day."

"So maybe you should let 'em out," she said in a low, dangerous voice. He was unmoved.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

Willow closed her eyes, muttering, "Our tax dollars at work."

Buffy felt as if she'd swallowed an iceblock; it was the Initiative all over again. She didn't know the exact details of what had gone down in the city, but the seers had said it was bad, maybe even apocalyptic in scale, and the government was doing what it did best - covering it up and acting like it never happened. She grit her teeth.

"Look, whatever's going on in there, sealing off the city and pretending it doesn't exist is not a solution."

"It's not my decision, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am," she snapped.

"Whatever you say, ma'am."

Glaring at the soldier, Buffy said, "Will?"

"Energy barrier, a powerful one," she said, eyes still closed.

"Can you take it down?"

"Not sure...give me a second."

The soldier blinked, and shifted his gaze to Willow. "Hey, what-"

Willow's eyes popped open, and she looked at Buffy. "I could maybe punch a hole in it, but that'd leave a permanent weakness..." She looked thoughtful. "Kinda like a bald patch. Without knowing what's in there, I don't think we should risk it."

Buffy bit her lip. She couldn't help being disappointed by her friend's pragmatic response, and she had to fight her own instinct to pull down the barrier no matter what the consequences. Responsibility sucks, she thought.

"On the other hand," Willow said, "we don't have to." She pointed to a spot directly behind the jeep. "The barrier's thinner over there - I think we can get through but we won't be able to come out again."

The soldier's eyes were wide. "Who are you?"

They ignored him.

"You sure we're not just gonna go splat?" Buffy said. "Cause that'd really put a dampener on my day."

Willow shrugged. "Well, either we make it or..."

"Or?"

"Let's just say that insurance will come in handy," Willow said with a crooked grin.

"You really know how to inspire confidence, Will," Buffy said, grimacing. She shot the soldier a challenging stare. "So, _cadet_, you wanna move that jeep or shall I move it for you?"

He responded to her insult by backing up and reaching for his sidearm.

Willow gestured, and he froze. The other soldiers leapt into action, bringing their weapons to bear. Another gesture and they became as still as their colleague.

"Oh great," Buffy said, slapping the dashboard. "Now what am I gonna do with all this pent-up aggression?" She needed to hit something, damn it.

Grinning, Willow popped the car door. "How about driving through a magical barrier? Doing your Mad Max thing?"

"It's not the same," Buffy said, pouting.

"Come on, you know you want to."

Buffy's pout dissolved into a smile; Willow knew her too well.

"Is the gap big enough for the car?" Buffy asked.

"Oh yeah, in fact you could probably drive a truck through it."

"Huh." Buffy considered that as they got out to switch seats. She wasn't sure she wanted to know why the military had left a one-way entrance in the shield.

As Willow passed the soldier she patted his shoulder. "I'm really sorry, but it'll wear off soon." A mosquito landed on his nose, and his eyes boggled. Buffy snickered as she unceremoniously dragged the soldiers off the road and dumped them on the sidewalk. She hopped into the jeep, drove it into a driveway with a flourish, and returned to the car.

Strapping herself into the driver's seat, Buffy glanced over.

"So, one way ticket, huh?"

"I guess kamikaze missions have become our specialty," Willow said with a shrug.

Grinning, Buffy floored the accelerator.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews. They are all very much appreciated.

* * *

As they passed through the barrier time seemed to slow for Willow, and the world outside faded from her awareness. For a split second she was in limbo, then they were through and the world within the shield flooded her senses. She was relieved to discover a lingering human presence, though it was overshadowed by a malevolent, pulsing force so strong she tasted an acrid tang in the back of her throat.

The car squealed to a halt, jerking her forward against her seat belt. Jolted from her inner explorations, she glared at Buffy.

"Oops. Sorry 'bout that," Buffy said cheerfully. She twisted to gaze through the rear window and reversed the car. Willow cringed, anticipating a collision with the barrier, but the car stopped with inches to spare.

Mouths open, the three females were staring at them.

"Get in!" Willow yelled out the window.

As if in a trance the woman shook her head. "No, we have to get out of here." She resumed her futile struggle against the barrier while the little girls continued to stare.

"Oh, for the love of..." Buffy burst out of the car and ran to the woman, hauling her away from the barrier. "It's nearly dark. You can't stay here."

The woman fought to get away. "No kidding! Do I look like I'm setting up camp? Let go!"

Willow spilled out of the car, uncertain if she should intervene or not. Buffy was right, but this wasn't exactly the best way to gain the woman's trust.

"We so don't have time for this," Buffy muttered as she dragged her to the car.

Like mini slayers, the little girls hurled themselves at Buffy, beating her with tiny fists and screaming, "Stop hurting our mommy!"

Surprised, Buffy released the woman, who collapsed in a heap. Her daughters clustered about her, seeking reassurance. Buffy threw her hands in the air and cast a disgusted look in Willow's direction.

She hesitated, then approached the woman and knelt. "Look, I know we got off to a bad start, what with the caveman routine and all," she glanced at Buffy, "but we really are trying to help you."

The woman looked up with tear-filled eyes. "Then help us get out."

Willow tried to come up with a way to soften the blow and realised she didn't have the time. "You can't get out. No one can."

Bringing a hand to her mouth, the woman stifled a sob. The older girl stared at Willow with big brown eyes in a dirt-smudged face. Willow put her age at about six years old.

"How do you know?" said the girl in a small voice.

Willow squared her shoulders. "I'm a witch. It's my job to know."

"You don't look like a witch."

"Yeah, well, I left my pointy hat at home."

"Where's your wand?" demanded the younger girl as she clung to her mother.

"I don't-"

Buffy loomed over them. "This is a fascinating conversation, but can we please get the hell out of here?" She offered the woman a hand. "You'll be safer with us, I promise."

The sun had dipped below the horizon and the sky was darkening into a rich midnight blue. A distant howl echoed through the night and the woman blanched. She grasped Buffy's hand, and in one easy motion the slayer pulled her up.

They all piled into the car. Willow breathed a sigh of relief as she slammed the door shut. Though she knew the car wouldn't protect them against anything that really meant business, she felt safer within its confines.

Buffy turned the ignition and looked at Willow. "Where to?"

Willow glanced at their passengers; she hadn't anticipated picking up strays on their mission but they could hardly leave them behind now.

"The root of all evil, I guess - Wolfram Hart."

The street lights were out, so Buffy took it slow as she began driving towards the downtown area. Blacked-out buildings towered over them like menacing shadows, and Willow couldn't help wondering if the shadows had eyes. She shivered, shook it off, and faced the woman and her daughters. The light from the dashboard lent their features a greenish tinge.

"I'm Willow."

The woman nodded and introduced herself. "Jean. This is Melissa," she said, ruffling the older girl's hair, "and Abby." She hugged her youngest, but the girl squirmed in her mother's arms.

"What's the mean girl's name?" said Abby.

Buffy growled while Willow smothered a grin. "Her name's Buffy."

Giggles erupted from the back seat. "That's a dorky name."

"Is it too late to take them back?" Buffy said, deadpan.

The giggles stopped at once.

"Don't worry," Willow said. "Buffy acts tough, but she's all soft and marshmallowy inside. She wouldn't do anything to hurt you. Right, Buffy?"

Silence.

"Right, Buffy?" Willow said a little louder.

There was an incomprehensible grunt that might have been an affirmation; Willow chose to take it as such. "See." She was about to continue listing Buffy's virtues when Melissa pointed through the windscreen.

"Look, mommy, there's our car."

Whipping her head around, Willow saw the headlights illuminate an SUV on the side of the road, its bumper embedded in a pole.

"Where's daddy?" Abby asked as she pressed her face against the window.

In a choked voice, Jean said, "Daddy's gone, sweetie."

Willow exchanged a worried look with Buffy, and reached out to touch Jean's knee. "We need to know what happened to the city."

"What difference does it make?" Jean said with quiet despair. "We're trapped here. We're probably going to die here. Just like-" She buried her face in Abby's hair.

The woman's terror permeated the air, and Willow's throat constricted in response. Coming to Los Angeles hadn't seemed like such a big deal when the sun was shining and she'd been a thousand miles away. But now it was night, she and Buffy had no backup, and the enormity of their task was beginning to hit her.

Struggling to breathe, Willow's gaze fell on the girls, their small faces scrunched up with fear and confusion, and a visible reminder of the innocents she was here to protect. With an effort, she clamped down on her emotions and pinched Jean's knee hard. The woman's head snapped up.

"Look at them," Willow said, gesturing to Melissa and Abby, "and tell me again it doesn't make any difference."

"I..."

"We're in deep poopville here, I'm not denying that, but you give up now and you're as good as..." She paused, and not wanting to frighten the girls spelled out, "D-E-A-D. So are they."

Jean opened her mouth, as if to protest, then looked down at her daughters. After a long moment she said, "You're right."

"Damn straight."

"Nice pep talk, Willow," Buffy said in a low voice.

"Thanks."

"But...poopville?"

"What's wrong with poopville?"

"Kind of a gross mental image, don't you think?"

Willow sniffed. "Fine. Next time you do the talking."

"Er, hello?" Jean said. "Remember me."

"Oh, right," Willow said, trading a sheepish look with Buffy. She turned back to Jean. "Sorry. Go on."

Jean took a deep breath. "There was an earthquake, about ten days ago. It wasn't a big one, not even a 4.0, but it woke us up." She was silent for several seconds. "That's when it started...the horrible night noises, the gory deaths...as if wild animals were loose in the city. No one knew what was going on, but there were all kinds of insane rumours. We thought it would blow over - I mean, this is L.A. - but then people starting leaving. There were traffic jams and accidents, road rage like you wouldn't believe. Everything was so crazy we decided to wait...because of the girls." She hugged them tighter.

"Mommy, you're squishing me," said Abby.

"Sorry, baby." Clothing rustled as Jean shifted. "We thought someone would come...the police or the army. But no one did."

Willow chewed her lip. "Did you ever see anything?"

Jean shook her head. "We stayed inside, hiding."

"Probably a good idea," Buffy said.

"I'm not so sure," Jean said. "We ran out of food and water, the power was out, and all of a sudden the city was practically deserted. It felt like we were the last ones here, so after a couple more days we decided to make a run for it." She sniffled. "That didn't work out so well."

"What happened to your husband?" Willow asked gently.

Jean wiped her eyes. "We'd made it this far, so we were starting to relax. Then this...creature flew down out of nowhere, breathing fire. Mike swerved and hit the pole. He yelled at me to run." She drew in a quavering breath. "So I did. I grabbed the girls...and I left him."

After a moment Willow said, "I know it doesn't feel like it, but you did the right thing."

"Yeah."

That single word was laden with bitterness. Willow fell silent, knowing nothing she said could comfort the woman.

Out of the blue, Buffy said, "You were wrong, you know." Her tone was brusque. Willow recognised the signs - Buffy was in slayer mode, focused solely on the mission. It was times like these when her personality shared more in common with the primitive slayer than Willow would have liked.

"What?" Jean said.

"Someone did come - it just wasn't who you were expecting."

With a slightly hysterical laugh, Jean said, "No offence, but I'd rather have the marines escorting me. And maybe a navy seal or two."

Willow smiled. "No offence taken. But me and Buffy are better than a whole platoon of marines."

"I find that hard to-"

Buffy abruptly slammed on the brakes.

"Hey!" Willow said as she was once again flung against her seat belt, this time sideways. Buffy didn't respond.

Jean stared through the windscreen. "Oh God."

Willow swivelled her head, and her mouth went dry. A phalanx of demons blocked the road - most of them vampires, but she also spotted several unfamiliar creatures who looked extremely bad-tempered.

"Umm, Buffy?" she said. "Could you give me one of those pep talks now?"

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Many thanks for the positive comments. Sorry for the delay in posting this part - sometimes RL bites me in the arse.

* * *

Buffy gripped the steering wheel, staring at the demons. There were at least a dozen of them and more were joining the party. Though they didn't seem to be in any hurry to attack. In fact they were just standing around, chatting and laughing as if they were at a summer barbecue. Guess who's the steak, she thought grimly. 

She scanned the street; it was lined with shops and restaurants, their doors and windows smashed, and unlikely to provide much in the way of cover. Buffy resisted the urge to stomp on the gas and plough through the demons; they'd rip the car apart as if it were made of cardboard. Going back wasn't an option, so...

She switched off the ignition and looked at Willow. "Will, maybe you should-"

"Sit here like a good little slayerette while you go out there alone?"

"Actually I thought it'd be better if you stayed here to protect them." Jerking her chin towards the back seat, she avoided Willow's knowing gaze.

"Sure," Willow said, an undercurrent of anger belying her light tone. "While I'm at it why don't I slit your throat and serve you up with fries and a side salad."

Buffy flinched.

"We go together, Buffy. It's the best chance we have."

Unable and perhaps unwilling to argue, Buffy nodded. "All right."

"Are you two crazy?" Jean poked her head between the front seats. "You can't take them on. Just turn the damn car around."

"And go where?" Buffy said, turning her attention back to the demons.

"Anywhere!"

Willow patted Jean's arm. "Don't worry. We'll be okay. But, er, if anything should happen to us, it'd probably be a good idea to skedaddle."

With the headlights off the near full moon lent the demons a surreal quality. For a second Buffy wondered if she was dreaming, caught in one of her nightmares. A whimper from behind her broke her reverie. She noticed the demons had stopped talking and were now eyeing the occupants of the car with open hunger.

"Key's in the ignition," she said over her shoulder. "Ready, Will?"

"Let's kick some demon booty," Willow said, slapping a fist into her other palm. She looked about as threatening as a lion cub.

Suppressing a smile, Buffy popped the trunk. Slayer and witch exited the car simultaneously, Buffy racing to the rear to retrieve the weapons she'd smuggled aboard the plane; having a witch for a friend sure came in handy.

As she grabbed a short sword and a stake she glimpsed Willow on the right side of the car unleashing crackling firewhips in both hands. Wielding the whips like a matador, she looked magnificent.

Buffy hurriedly retraced her steps to join her friend, each either side of the car bonnet. The pair confronted the demons, and in that instant the tableau froze as both sides assessed the other. Buffy felt her spine tingle, felt the familiar intoxicating heat fire her nerves and muscles. She never felt more alive than when she was fighting for her life.

She blinked. The tableau cracked; the demons roared in concert and charged.

The first vampire ran straight to her. She sidestepped neatly and decapitated him. The next two were more cautious and stopped short, flanking her. She propelled herself into a no-hands cartwheel between the two and came up behind them, whirling. She managed to decapitate one, but the other landed a solid punch to her face. Reeling, she dodged another punch and slammed her sword into the vampire's gut. He doubled over and she followed through with a stake to the back. Shrieking, he crumbled into ash.

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy glimpsed two vampires already on fire and flailing their arms about. Willow was holding others at bay by keeping the whips moving constantly.

Buffy surveyed the demons approaching her, focusing mind and body. The easy bit was over; now that the demons had her measure there weren't going to be any more quick kills.

They seemed leaderless and when they attacked, it was in a disorganised fashion, without any apparent strategy. All the better for me, she thought. She engaged them, fighting with deadly precision and staking or beheading each demon as quickly as possible.

Soon her hair and eyelashes were coated in ash, and her ears rang with vampire deathcries. She'd slain at least a dozen demons but they kept coming...and she was beginning to tire.

She spun and landed a roundhouse kick on a skinny yellow demon. Snarling, it slashed a clawed hand at her face. She leaned back just enough to avoid the claws and kicked it in the stomach while it was off balance. One slice later and another headless demon lay on the road.

Swinging around, she came face to face with a one-eyed purple monstrosity. Ropes of saliva dripped from its mouth.

"Eww. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Its single red eye narrowed.

She smiled sweetly. "Not that you'll be seeing her again. Ever." Feinting, Buffy jabbed her stake at its eye. As the demon blinked she thrust her short sword at its belly, but before it could connect, a purple paw grabbed her arm and whipped her around.

"Wrong, slayer," hissed another purple demon almost identical to the first one, even down to the drooling mouth. It spat at her and Buffy instinctively raised her arm to block the incoming lugie, which left her wide open for the stomach punch which followed a second later. Pain exploded in her solar plexus and her vision blurred, but somehow she managed to stay on her feet. She lashed out blindly with the sword and heard a bellow.

As she stumbled, long purple arms wrapped around Buffy's waist from behind, trapping her arms against her body and lifting her from the ground. She snapped her head back and struck a bony chin, but the demon didn't let go. She hung in its arms, helpless, and saw mommie dearest coming towards her. Acrid yellow blood stained her stomach and her red eye bulged in its socket; she looked majorly pissed.

Buffy renewed her struggles, wriggling like a landed fish, but the demon's grip was like steel and she couldn't get any leverage. The she-demon drew nearer, flashing a toothy grin, but even as she took another step, a golden whip circled her thick neck and coiled tight. Howling, the demon clawed at her throat but succeeded only in burning her fingers. The firewhip held fast and the smell of charred flesh drifted to Buffy's nose. Despite her predicament, she winced in sympathy. The demon fell to her knees as the firewhip tightened and sank into her neck.

Without warning Buffy was released. The demon shoved her aside and ran to its mother, but it was already too late. Growling, it spun and rushed her, but in its rage the demon was careless. Buffy launched a perfectly timed snapkick at its face, and as it lurched back she dispatched it with a swing of her sword.

She glanced at her friend, but her gratitude turned to horror as she watched a vampire take advantage of Willow's distraction to dart in close and backhand her. The firewhips vanished, and Willow went down like a felled antelope.

"Willow!"

Buffy fought to get to Willow, wielding sword and stake with reckless fury, but there were too many bodies between them.

She wasn't going to make it.

Catching a glimpse of the vampire bending down to Willow's neck, Buffy screamed. "No!"

As if in answer a lean figure hurtled out of the night towards Willow. He yanked the vampire off her and snapped the demon's neck as if it were a stick of celery.

And he wasn't alone.

Multiple gunshots echoed in the night air, accompanied by arrows raining on the remaining demons. Three vampires disintegrated and more shrieked in pain. Buffy ducked and crouched beside the car, her heart pounding. Guns scared her more than demons ever would.

She watched a human army of maybe twenty people close in on the demons, overwhelming them. Within minutes the few surviving demons had scattered into the shadows.

Buffy stood, a tad befuddled by the battle's swift end. Limbs trembling with unexpended energy, she tucked the stake into her waistband. She peeked into the car, was reassured by a thumbs up from Jean, and tottered over to Willow.

"You okay?" Buffy said, trying to give her friend a onceover in the moonlight.

Panting, Willow nodded. "That was...bracing." Something trickled down her neck.

"You're bleeding!"

Willow put a hand to her neck. "It's just a scrape. I don't think he got his fangs in, thanks to..." she peered up at the young man supporting her elbow, "cute rescue guy. Hi."

He stared at her. "Willow, it's me, Connor."

"Oh, hi Connor."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Friend of yours, Will?"

"Never seen him before," Willow stage-whispered.

"Sure you have. When you came down to...whoa." Connor slapped his forehead. "The memory wipe, it must have affected you."

"Memory wipe?" Buffy said, immediately suspicious. She was fed up with anybody and everybody messing with her head. She tugged Willow away from him. "Who are you?"

He hesitated.

Her suspicion skyrocketed. "It's a simple enough question."

Connor looked from her to Willow and back again.

"I'm Angel's son."

Buffy couldn't help it; she giggled. "Yeah, good one. Just one teensy weensy little problem with that scenario, Angel's a-"

"A vampire. I know. So was my mother."

Funny, thought Buffy. He looked perfectly sane, yet the words coming out of his mouth couldn't possibly be true. Could they? Angel would never...

"That's not possible," she said flatly.

Connor lifted his chin. "Well, I'm standing right here so obviously it is."

"Only if we assume you're telling the truth, Pinocchio."

He frowned. "Pinocchio?"

"Hey, hey," Willow said. "Guys, let's not lose our heads here and say something we'll regret." She wiggled her eyebrows at Buffy.

"What's a Pinocchio?" asked Connor.

Buffy's face burned. Was he mocking her? She stepped forward, but they were interrupted by an asian guy toting a shotgun.

"Connor, man, time to move before the uglies come back."

Connor nodded. "Casualties?"

"Ben's got a dislocated shoulder and Riko lost a couple mouthfuls of blood. Nothing serious. We got lucky."

"Okay, round everyone up and we'll head back."

The guy snapped his gum. "Sure. Just one little hitch in that masterplan - lady in the car won't come out."

"I'll get her," Willow said hastily. Before Buffy could stop her, she'd left with the asian guy in tow.

Staring after Willow, Buffy wished she could follow her. She needed time to think, time to consider whether Connor was telling the truth. But leaving would've meant backing down, and that wasn't in her nature. And she'd just remembered the reason she'd come to L.A.

"Where's Angel?" she asked.

He dropped his gaze. "He's still MIA."

"Oh." She fought back the threatening tears.

"But we're not giving up on him yet."

Buffy nodded.

Breaking an uncomfortable silence, Connor said, "You're a pretty good fighter."

She didn't answer.

"A slayer, right? From your sparkling personality, I'm guessing you must be Buffy."

Buffy rounded on him. "And what do you know about me? Or slayers for that matter."

A mischievous smile hovered about his mouth. "Only what Faith told me."

"Faith! She's here?" She didn't know whether to feel annoyed that Faith had beaten her here or relieved that she wasn't the only slayer in town.

"She said you'd come. The way she talks about you, it's like you're Jackie Chan and Wonder Woman all rolled into one. She seems to think you're the only one who can save our collective asses." His speculative gaze rested on her. "I hope she's right." And he loped off towards a group handing boxes out of a restaurant.

Buffy called after him, "So no pressure, then." He didn't turn around. She pivoted and strode to the car, muttering, "Knows who Jackie Chan is but not Pinocchio...the youth of today."

Jean was standing next to Willow, saying, "I thought you were just kidding before. You know, when you said you were a witch." The girls were plastered to her side, staring up at Willow in awe.

"Not me, mommy," piped Abby. "I knew she was a real witch."

"You did not!" Melissa said.

"Did too!"

"Girls, girls," Jean said with an embarrassed smile. "We'll talk about this later." She glanced at Buffy. "What do we do now?"

Buffy shrugged. "Guess we tag along with the wild bunch."

"Are you sure that's the best thing to do?" Jean said in a low voice.

"They seem to know what they're doing," Buffy said, observing the way their rescuers gathered supplies with a minimum of fuss. She stiffened as she saw Connor coming their way.

"Mind if we use your car?" he asked Willow.

"Oh, it's not mine. It's a rental, which...really doesn't matter right now," she said, noticing his bemused expression. She smiled brightly. "Help yourself!"

He shook his head a little and glanced at Buffy. "If the two of you don't mind walking, we've got a couple of injured who could use a ride."

Over his shoulder Buffy saw a muscular guy wearing a sling and a white-faced Japanese woman with a bandage on her neck. She held back her flippant response. "No problem."

"Thanks." Connor signalled the others, and they began packing the trunk with as many boxes as would fit. In no time at all, the wounded had been loaded into the back and Jean was in the driver's seat with the girls beside her. Buffy felt about as useful as the unlit streetlights.

As the car began crawling along the road everyone took up guard positions around the vehicle. Buffy found herself bringing up the rear with Willow.

She snagged Willow's sleeve. "You're not buying this miracle birth fantasy, are you?"

"Why would he make up something like that?"

"To annoy me?"

"He doesn't even know you, Buff."

Buffy shot her a sidelong glance. "Why're you defending him?"

Willow shrugged. "He did save my life...and he gives off the good vibes. Plus you have to admit there's a family resemblance; they both have broodface."

"Broodface is not a genetic trait. And vampires don't give birth, it's like...a rule."

"Says the woman who's been resurrected more times than...well, anybody on the planet. You should know better than anyone that rules can be rewritten or even," she coughed, "ignored."

Buffy pouted. "Well, I don't trust him."

Willow fell silent for several paces, then said, "Is that because you don't believe him or because you do?"

It took a moment for Buffy to understand. "Will, this isn't about me."

"You sure about that, Buffy?" She sped up, leaving Buffy feeling unsettled and a little lost.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks again for all the reviews. :) I wish I could write faster for you guys, but unfortunately I'm slow as molasses. I am already working on the next part though.

* * *

Two little faces pressed against the window as she came alongside the car. Willow felt a tad embarrassed by the hero worship, especially since Buffy had done most of the work, but gave them a little wave nonetheless. She was rewarded with two far more enthusiastic ones in return. 

Her legs felt heavy and sluggish as she trudged beside the car. Creating and manipulating the firewhips had taken more power than she'd anticipated; she'd had to fight the tainted energies within the barrier to work white magic. It had been like walking through water -- twice the effort to achieve the same result.

Shaking off her weariness, Willow quickened her pace to catch up with Connor at the head of the group. Despite Buffy's misgivings, there a familiarity about the young man that made Willow lean towards trusting him.

"Hey, Connor."

"Hey," he said, not looking at her. His eyes constantly roamed the barren streets, scrutinising every shadow, every corner. She watched him for a minute. Nothing was left unexamined, from the highest skyscraper to the bloody remains of something or someone that Willow preferred not to speculate about. There was an air of desperation about the young man that told her he was searching for more than just baddies. She decided not to ask about Angel right off the bat.

"Wanna fill me in, the Cliff notes version?"

"City went to hell," he said with an impatient shrug. "What more is there to tell?"

"But how? Why?"

He finally glanced at her, his expression puzzled. "Who cares? Whatever happened, it's history."

Willow sighed. Why was everyone being so difficult? She quashed her irritation. "The point is, we can't stop it without knowing how it started."

"Stop what?"

She stumbled in her shock. He didn't know. Her mind careened down the logical path. And why should he? Connor wasn't a witch; he couldn't feel the insidious cancer gradually consuming the land, contained only by the magical barrier surrounding the city.

Connor grabbed her arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She shook him off. "I'm just tired is all."

"Yeah, sure."

She heard the doubt in his voice, and quickly said, "So how about that update?" He was silent for a few seconds and she could feel his eyes on her, but she said nothing more.

He shrugged. "I don't know what happened...exactly. Last time I saw Angel it was at Wolfram & Hart. The whole building was falling apart around us. I figured he must've pissed them off."

"Hmm, imagine that. Angel pissing someone off."

Connor grinned. "Yeah, I think it's one of his favourite hobbies. Anyway we were fighting this lawyer dude..."

She stared. "It took the two of you to fight a lawyer?"

"Hey, this guy was huge, and strong, and...and a really sharp dresser!"

"What was he wearing? Armour?"

He bristled, and his indignant expression made her aware that he really was just a teenager. She suppressed the urge to reach up and ruffle his hair.

"You know," Connor said, "Angel was getting his ass kicked before I showed up."

"Good thing you did, then." Somehow she managed to keep a straight face.

"Yeah." His face turned sheepish. "So I, er, kinda got knocked out for a while. When I came to, Angel told me to get out of the city..."

"But you didn't?" she prompted.

"Oh, I got out of the city...and then I came right back." He tugged his hair. "I had to."

Willow nodded. She had the impression their relationship was a complicated one, and she couldn't quite tell whether Connor had returned out of obligation or love.

She paused as they came up to a major intersection, checking both ways for non-existent traffic. Connor kept going and she had to trot to catch up.

"You didn't find Angel, did you?" she asked.

"Not a scrap of his leather coat," he said, his shoulders slumped.

Summoning her cheeriest voice, she said, "Don't worry. I'll just do a locator spell and we'll--"

"The witches already tried; it didn't work."

"Oh." That certainly put the kybosh on her brilliant idea. She felt deflated for a moment, but her natural optimism asserted itself. "You have other witches? That's great. Maybe we can pool our resources." Knowing she wasn't the only magic-user in town boosted her spirits.

"I wouldn't count on any help from them if I were you."

"What? Why?"

A vaguely guilty look flitted across his face. "You'll see."

A ripple of excitement swept through her and she brandished a finger at him. "Aha!"

Connor stopped in his tracks and recoiled. "What?"

"You were being cryptic guy."

"Huh?"

A few metres behind them the car braked to a halt, and someone grumbled, "What's the holdup?"

Connor glanced back and started walking again. Willow glanced back too.

"Boy, it's too bad Buffy didn't see that," she said, mostly to herself.

He cleared his throat. "She doesn't like me much, does she?"

"Buffy? Oh no, that's not it. She's just...shy. Really, really shy."

Connor tossed a sceptical look her way.

Willow half-shrugged in apology. "Okay, so she has issues. Especially when it comes to Angel..." She trailed off, wondering how much she should reveal. "Buffy and Angel...they're kinda like a minefield -- doesn't matter which way they step, someone's gonna lose a limb...I mean, get hurt." She noticed Connor's perplexed expression. "Never mind. She'll get over it...eventually."

He didn't respond. And Willow, feeling as if this night would never end, lapsed into silence. The moon had reached its zenith, shifting shadows and casting a silvery gleam on the skyscrapers to her right. She realised with a jolt that they were somewhere downtown, probably not too far away from Wolfram & Hart. Connor turned left onto 3rd Street.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "And are we going to get there this century?"

Connor glanced at her, his eyes amused. "It's not far. We're holed up in a school auditorium."

"Hmm, in my day it was the school library."

He looked at her as if he thought she wasn't quite right in the head. No one respects their elders any more, mused Willow.

Connor guided her into a wide avenue and pointed out a rectangular building halfway down. She would've noticed it anyway because its high windows glowed yellow like a beacon. They passed an L-shaped brick building bearing the words "Belmont High School" and a landscaped area which was part of the school grounds before arriving at the auditorium.

The aroma of protective magic was all over the building, warm and sweet like apple and cinnamon. Willow felt the difference as soon as she crossed the threshold of the spell -- the air seemed cleaner, purer. But she could also sense how much power was feeding the spell and she couldn't help but wonder about its source.

The car rumbled up the driveway behind them and parked as close as possible to the glass-fronted auditorium. Willow hesitated, then climbed the concrete steps leading up to the entrance, watched on either side by two armed men with wary eyes. But at a nod from Connor, they let her pass unchallenged. When they reached the top he pulled open the double front doors and gestured for her to enter.

The foyer was crowded, but not with people. Boxes and boxes were stacked against the walls, as well as a formidable supply of weapons in one corner. Several open boxes displayed water bottles and giant cans of peaches. Connor nudged her forward to allow the others to carry in the newly acquired supplies. She took the hint and moved to one of two open doorways leading off from the foyer.

Inside, the auditorium glowed with dozens of candles, creating a surprisingly cozy atmosphere. Mattresses and sleeping bags, most of them occupied, took up all the floor space except for a clear path leading to the stage at the far end. Thick red curtains hid the stage from view.

Low whispers and muted coughs echoed around the auditorium, but most people seemed to be asleep. Willow hung back, reluctant to disturb them. A cold shiver touched her heart as she wondered if this was it -- two, maybe three hundred survivors. Even if most of the city's population had fled, it was a chilling thought.

"Coming through." Buffy's low voice came from behind.

Willow turned and saw the guy with the dislocated shoulder -- Ben, she thought his name was -- trudging towards her, cradling his injured arm. Close behind him was Buffy, supporting the Japanese woman. Willow stepped aside, and not knowing what else to do, trailed them to the side of the stage. Ben went up the steps first and held back the drapes for Buffy, who had to practically lift the injured woman from step to step. When Willow reached the stage she let the curtain fall back behind her.

About twenty people lay on the stage, arrayed around a central table covered with candles, bandages and basic medical equipment. As the faint scent of stale blood wafted up her nose Willow realised this was a makeshift hospital. A man and woman approached to take charge of the new patients, but Willow's eyes were on a dark-haired woman crouched near a man with a bandaged head.

She glanced up at them, grinned and rose. "Well, look what the cat dragged in...and spat out again."

Buffy smoothed her dusty hair self-consciously. "Faith," she acknowledged. Willow just waved.

"It's about time you guys got here. What'd you do? Stop off at Disneyland?"

"Actually, we had to cross a little puddle called the Atlantic ocean," Buffy said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh yeah. I thought Willow could just beam you up or something," Faith said, swirling her fingers in the air.

"I could, but I wouldn't have been able to bring Buffy with me," Willow said absently, her attention captured by a familiar magical aura at the rear of the stage. In the gloom all she could make out were people-shaped lumps lying on the wooden surface. She drifted towards them, skirting the table in the centre of the stage.

"Willow," Faith said.

Willow heard the warning in Faith's voice but she ignored it, driven by avid curiosity. Her eyes adjusted to the murkiness and she knelt near three figures clustered close together. Their faces were indistinct but she could see long hair draped on their shoulders. They didn't stir as Willow studied them, trying to figure out why they seemed so familiar.

It hit her all at once. Furious, she twisted and bolted to her feet. Faith was standing right behind her.

"It was their choice, Willow."

"You should've stopped them."

"How?"

Willow opened her mouth and closed it again, stymied by Faith's simple question. The slayer was calm, too calm. Her very lack of emotion fed Willow's rage.

"You just...should have!"

Buffy scooped a candle off the table and brought it over, casting a soft glow over the three sleeping witches. "Will, take it easy. What's wrong?" She rested a hand on Willow's back.

Willow tried to answer, but her throat closed and she couldn't get the words out. Her heart was pounding wildly and she felt as if she was about to explode.

"This building is protected by a sanctuary spell," Faith said, her voice a monotone. She indicated the witches. "They created it."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Buffy said, looking from her sister slayer to her witchy friend.

"Except that it's killing them." Willow glared at Faith.

The candlelight flickered as Buffy's hand twitched. "What?"

"They're channelling their lifeforce into the spell, Buffy. All of it."

"I didn't know," Faith said, almost in a whisper. "I didn't know until it was too late." Her face spasmed, only for an instant, but it was enough to bring Willow to her senses. Her fury melted, if not her sorrow. And yet she couldn't look at Faith. After a moment Willow distanced herself from both slayers, turning her back on them. She stared at the curtains blanketing the stage. The heavy fabric resembled a shroud.

"Can you help them?" Buffy asked.

"There isn't enough of them left to save." Willow scrubbed her face with both hands. She wanted very much to find a quiet corner to cry, but this was no time to indulge herself. She swung back around. "I have to go to Wolfram & Hart. Now."

"Whoa." Buffy blinked. "What's with the big rush? It'll still be there tomorrow."

"Yeah, it will. But how long do you think this spell's going to last? We don't have time to just mosey on over there at our own convenience."

"We're not moseying," Buffy said in a firm voice. "But we've already had one near-death experience tonight and I think that's enough. We're not going back out there, not tonight."

Willow looked Buffy dead in the eye. "Who said anything about 'we'?"

Hurt flashed across Buffy's face. Willow felt a twinge of remorse, but it was overriden by an increasing sense of urgency. Buffy drew breath to speak, but Faith intervened.

"Buffy's right. You can't go back out until it's daylight."

Willow arched an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

Faith sighed. "Don't make me go all sheriff on your ass, okay? Those guys out there do what I say, and if I tell them to shoot you in the leg, they'll do it, no questions asked."

Oh, great. Now they were ganging up on her. Willow was tempted to test Faith's authority, but she was painfully aware that she needed to conserve her energy. Still, she longed to transform Faith into a dung beetle.

Willow nibbled her lip, wondering if there was a back door out of the building. But one look at Faith's implacable face told her that even if there was, it would be covered. She straightened her back.

"Fine," Willow said, "but if the world ends while you're taking a nap, don't blame me!" She whirled and flounced to the side of the stage. Well, as much as she could flounce while being careful not to tread on anyone.

Buffy called her name, but Willow didn't look back.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Pale yellow light bled through the eastern sky, pushing back the night. Buffy watched, weary in spirit if not in body. A few hours sleep had been enough to recharge her batteries but no amount of sleep could erase her burden. Though she could not see the auditorium or its occupants, she felt the weight of their presence at her back. This rescue mission had seemed much simpler when it was just her and Willow looking for Angel.

She heard a click and turned to see Willow emerging from the auditorium. The witch saw her and hesitated at the top of the steps before descending. As her friend drew nearer, Buffy noticed that Willow, too, had found time to wash her face and put on a clean shirt. With her red hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked fresh and perky. And she was carrying her bag of witchy supplies.

"Hey," said Buffy.

"Hey."

An uncomfortable silence expanded. Buffy adjusted the sword across her back. "So you ready to go mosey?"

Willow's mouth quirked. "Sure."

Buffy breathed easier. "Great. Soon as Faith gets here we can get going."

Breaking eye contact, Willow fiddled with the strap of her satchel. "Well, actually--"

"Will, I know you were upset last night, and you had good reason to be. But we need to work together now."

"Teamwork, sure. I'm down with that. But..." She glanced over her shoulder and her voice dropped. "It's not like I was being all boy-who-cried-wolf, you know." Flicking her fingers, Willow indicated the auditorium. "This sanctuary spell's not going to last more than a couple of days. If we're lucky. After that we're gonna be in poop...we're gonna be in trouble."

"Okaaay." Buffy scratched her nose. She wasn't certain where Willow was going but she had the vague feeling she wasn't going to like the destination.

Willow took a deep breath. "I have to go to Wolfram & Hart. You have to find Angel. We should split up."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "I don't get it. What's the big whoop with going to Wolfram & Hart?"

"No whoop. No whoop at all."

"Well, what do you think you're going to find there? If you believe the miracle child, Angel's long gone."

Willow's expression was unusually blank. "I won't know till I get there."

Buffy planted her hands on her hips. "You've got shifty face."

"What? No I haven't."

"Yeah you do. I thought you weren't gonna hold out on me any more."

Willow bit her lip. At that moment the auditorium doors slammed open and Faith appeared hauling two bicycles. Connor was right on her heels, similarly laden.

Buffy stared at him. "Tell me he's just here to wave goodbye."

"He is," Willow said, all innocence. Buffy glared at her and Willow flashed a sheepish grin. "Er, to you."

"Will, you know I don't trust him."

"Not a problem. He's coming with me."

"Willow!"

Faith bounded up, dropping the already battered bicycles with a metallic clash. "We all set?"

"Absolutely," Willow said. "Right, Buffy?"

Faced with Willow's pleading eyes, Buffy sighed. "Sure." She knew Willow was right. And this was no time to throw a tantrum, no matter how much she wanted to. Willow beamed at her and turned to Connor.

"Let's boogie," she said.

He nodded and manoevred one of the bicycles next to her. As she was about to climb on, Buffy blurted, "Hey, Will."

Willow looked back.

"Don't forget not all demons are allergic to sunlight, okay?"

"I know. Me bookworm, you slayer, remember?" With a breezy wave, Willow hopped on the bike and took off down the driveway.

Connor nodded at Buffy. "I'll watch her back," he said before zipping after Willow.

"You'd better," Buffy muttered. She watched them disappear down the street. Her spine prickled, despite the growing warmth of the sun.

Faith slung an arm round Buffy's shoulders. "Hey, don't look so constipated. He's a good kid, not to mention one hell of a demon asskicker."

Buffy gave her a sidelong look. "So you believe his story, that his parents were vampires, that Angel's his father?"

Faith shrugged. "Hadn't given it much thought. Too busy trying to hold the fort together." She grabbed a bicycle and thrust it at Buffy. "Let's get outta here before someone needs me to help pop a zit." Faith jumped on the bike and scooted forward several feet. "Last one to the end of the street's a buttmonkey!"

"Hey!" Buffy threw her leg over the saddle and pumped the pedals as hard as she could, but by the time she got to the end of the driveway she could see Faith already nearing the intersection. The dark-haired slayer skidded to a halt at the corner next to a stop sign. Easing up, Buffy glided up beside her.

"You cheated," Buffy said without heat.

Faith grinned. "I may be wearing a white hat these days, but I ain't changed that much."

"You don't say." Buffy surveyed the intersection, alert for dangers of the demon variety. She noted the abandoned vehicles dotting the curbsides. Most had smashed windows, many were missing doors. "So where're we going?"

"Yeah, about that..." Faith dragged a hand through her hair. "Look, there's really no point looking for Angel."

"What?"

Faith gazed at her, brown eyes liquid. "Buffy, the witches' locator spell failed. My way of thinking, there's only two explanations: either Angel's outside the shield or..."

Buffy felt her stomach shrink to the size of a peanut. "No. He's not dead. I'd know it."

"Okay, then he's outside the shield and it's a waste of time looking for him."

Disconcerted by Faith's matter-of-fact assessment, Buffy studied her. Faith had always been driven by her emotions, much like Buffy herself. This new side of Faith was not entirely comforting, especially since it seemed as if she wasn't going to fall in with Buffy's plans.

"He's not outside. He would've contacted me."

"Then..."

"It's not that simple. Maybe the spell failed because...because they're bad witches. Did ya ever think of that?"

Faith's gaze didn't waver. "If they were, we'd all be dead by now."

Heat flooded Buffy's cheeks. She hated that Faith was making her face a possibility she'd been doing her darndest to avoid. "Then what's with the charade? What're we doing here?"

Faith looked away. "We need to talk."

"You brought me out here for a heart to heart?" A hysterical giggle threatened to break loose. Buffy swallowed it and turned left at the intersection, cycling towards a block of downtown skyscrapers. Faith followed her but made no attempt to talk.

Buffy's gaze skittered over the empty street and wrecked cars. She was used to seeing deserted streets in the depths of night, but in the sun's soothing presence the absence of people felt all wrong. Her chest tightened. It became an effort to keep breathing, but she had no intention of stopping to rest. The breeze intensified, sparking a cool tingle on her cheeks, and she realised she was crying.

After a minute Faith moved up beside her. Buffy turned her head aside and scrubbed her face, furious with herself for believing even for a moment that Angel was dead.

"Buffy, I care about Angel too. But there's nothing we can do to help him right now."

"You don't know that." Her voice came out a little hoarse.

"Okay, I don't," Faith said without missing a beat. "What I do know is that we've got three hundred civilians to evacuate before that sanctuary spell bites the dust."

"We?" Despite herself, Buffy glanced at Faith.

"Yeah. Slayer, chosen one, sacred duty, any of this ringing a bell."

Faith was lecturing her about duty. Buffy shook her head in disbelief. During any other apocalypse she might've been amused, but right now she was too distracted.

"You look like you've got things covered," Buffy said. She pedalled harder and began to pull away; if Faith wasn't going to help her, she'd search for Angel by herself.

Without warning Faith grabbed Buffy's handlebar, bringing her to a premature stop and nearly sending her toppling to the ground. "Will you stop being pissed at me for one second and just listen."

Startled, Buffy fought for balance, bracing her feet on the tarmac. She stared at Faith. The dark-haired slayer's muscles were rigid, her knuckles white as she clutched the handlebar. Goosebumps prickled Buffy's arms.

"I know you're worried about Angel," Faith said, "but the big guy's pretty good at taking care of himself. Those people back there, not so much. And in case you hadn't noticed, we're short a couple hundred slayers."

Buffy squirmed. "We didn't know what the situation was. That's why Willow and I came first to scope it out." Her response sounded weak, even to her. It didn't help that she'd been second-guessing her decision not to bring the slayers ever since they'd arrived at the auditorium. But Faith didn't seem interested in placing blame.

"Well, now you know." Faith's eyes bored into her. "So what're you gonna do about it?"

* * *

Pacing back and forth in the windowless office, Xander couldn't believe how calm Giles looked. He wondered if somehow his Giles had been switched en route to Washington with a robot. Maybe he oughta poke him to be sure. Xander paused to ponder what would happen if it turned out Giles wasn't a robot; he decided to keep pacing.

A bare desk and several chairs took up most of the space in the small room. Ratty carpet and fluorescent lighting added to the cheap look. Xander felt disappointed. He'd been expecting something more...spiffy for the Pentagon. They could've been at his accountant's office -- if it hadn't been swallowed up when Sunnydale turned into a giant crater.

"Xander, would you please sit down?"

"A minute ago you told me to stop drumming my fingers on the table. Make up your mind, will ya?"

"I have. Sit down. Don't move."

Xander did so, mumbling, "Giles says make like a statue."

A man entered the room wearing a slick suit and wire-rimmed glasses, his face pale and pinched. His hair -- what there was of it -- was pasted down on his shiny head.

Giles stood. "McSwain."

"Giles, old man. It's good to see you." He advanced to shake Giles's hand, then retreated to hover near the door.

"Good to see you too," Giles said with a pointed look at his watch.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," McSwain said offhandedly. "You know how it is, presidents to brief, apocalypses to avert."

Giles sank back in his seat. "The president is aware of the situation?"

"It was rather difficult to hide an apocalyptic-sized event from him...not that we didn't try." Cold black eyes rested on Xander. "And who might you be?"

"Xander Harris. I'm with him." Xander pointed his chin towards Giles.

"Really?" McSwain twisted his mouth into a smirk. "Giles, you have changed."

"Cut it out," Giles said, irritation flitting across his face. "If the president knows what's happening, what is he doing about it?"

But McSwain wasn't listening; he was staring at Xander with a thoughtful expression. "Alexander Harris -- known associate of Buffy Summers, who just happens to fit the description of one of two women who infiltrated L.A.'s no-go zone yesterday."

Giles frowned. "I wasn't aware Los Angeles was off-limits."

"Well, you are rather out of the loop, old man." McSwain's smug face made Xander want to bitch slap him.

"So how's about putting us in the loop?" Xander said.

"I'm afraid that would take a security clearance neither of you possess. But rest assured we are handling the situation." He glanced at his watch. "Now if you'll excuse me..." It was a clear dismissal, but Xander was startled when Giles stood as if to leave. It wasn't like him to give up so easily.

McSwain glided to the door, hand outstretched towards the handle. Like a freight train, Giles rushed him, grabbing his throat and shoving him against the wall.

"Sorry, _old man_," said Giles, "but I'm going to have to insist you brief us, security clearance or no."

Leaning back in his chair, Xander watched McSwain's face turn pink. "I'd do what he says. He's the good cop. Imagine what I'd do to you." He caught Giles's exasperated glance. "But in the meantime I'll just sit here and be quiet."

McSwain gasped for breath, face darkening by the second. He sputtered, but couldn't quite get the words out.

"Er, Giles?" Xander said. "Maybe you oughta let a little air in, just so he doesn't drop dead before he squeaks."

Giles considered his former colleague for a moment, and eased his grip. "So what's your brilliant plan to avert the apocalypse?"

Recovering his breath, McSwain shot him a malignant look. "Do you really imagine you'll get away with this? I'll have you--" He broke off with a strangled yelp as Giles increased the pressure on his windpipe.

Xander shook his head. "Boy, are you dumb. How'd you even get into the Watchers Council?"

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear," Giles said, eyes boring into McSwain. "There are people who know where we are. And when I say 'people', I mean highly trained slayers who will not hesitate to track you down and beat you within an inch of your life should they lose contact with us." He smiled pleasantly. "Assuming you're still alive, of course."

McSwain's eyes boggled.

Giles's smile widened. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for all the feedback. :)

* * *

"Well, now you know." Faith's eyes bored into her. "So what're you gonna do about it?" 

For one beautiful moment Buffy allowed herself to believe that she was right and Faith was wrong, that she was the injured party and Faith was being the meanie. She positively basked in that feeling. Right up until her sense of duty asserted itself. Again. She sighed, and tried to be gracious about it.

"You suck."

Faith's mouth twitched. "Not what I was hoping for, but I'll take it."

"Yay."

"Careful. You don't wanna OD on the sarcasm."

"I've got a pretty high tolerance." Buffy took a last look at the downtown skyline looming ahead. Silhouetted against the rising sun, the silent grey buildings seemed to look down on her in disappointment. She turned away from them. "So now what?"

Faith cocked her head. "Scurry back to H.Q. and brainstorm escape plans?"

"What about Willow?"

"She told you why she's poking around Wolfram & Hart?"

Buffy hesitated. "No."

"Then she probably doesn't want us looking over her shoulder. Don't worry. Town stays pretty dead until noon." Faith flipped her bike so it pointed back towards the school. "Whaddya say?"

In answer, Buffy wheeled her bike around and began pumping the pedals. The sun warmed her back as they travelled down the wide boulevard. This had turned out to be a shorter trip than she'd expected. Buffy glanced at her sister slayer, noticing for the first time that Faith carried no weapons. I don't know why I bothered to bring my brain, Buffy thought, cause clearly I'm not using it.

"You could've told me all this back at the school," Buffy said, annoyed at both herself and the abrupt change in plan.

"Thought you might overreact. Civilians are jumpy enough as it is. The last thing they need to see is the two of us going at it." She slanted a glance at Buffy. "Fighting, that is."

"Well, you were wrong."

"Yeah? You telling me that you didn't wanna smack me around, even for a second."

Buffy didn't answer, and they spent the rest of the journey in silence.

When they neared the school, Buffy saw half a dozen people milling around outside the auditorium. As the slayers glided up the driveway, a wiry Asian guy detached himself from the group and trotted over to them. Buffy recognised him from the rescue posse the night before -- Rocky, she remembered.

"Faith, we got a problem," he called.

"What's up?" she said, braking beside him. Buffy pulled up next to Faith.

"There's a rumour going round that the witches' spell is about to go, like today. And with you and Connor nowhere to be found...well, it's starting to get ugly in there."

Clambering off her bike, Faith gave him an incredulous look. "I was gone like five minutes."

Rocky shrugged. "What can I tell you? People are sheep."

"If only," Faith mumbled.

He leaned in close. "Listen...the rumour ain't true, is it?"

Faith hesitated, glanced at Buffy.

"Nope," Buffy said at once. "It's a vicious lie."

Rocky looked at her, and back at Faith, who nodded.

"Okay, if you say so," he said. "The others might need a bit more convincing, though. Or a few whacks on the head." He loped away to rejoin the others.

Face settling in weary lines, Faith watched him go. "Hear that?" she said to Buffy. "I'm not a slayer, I'm a frickin nursemaid."

Buffy stifled a snicker. "I think it's sweet. You're like their Yoda."

"Mary Poppins, more like."

Faith wheeled her bike over to the side of the concrete steps and propped it up. Buffy followed suit and they trudged up the steps, Faith nodding at the guards as they passed. Inside the foyer, Faith paused to snatch up bottles of water and a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

"Let's go to my office," she said.

But as soon as they entered the auditorium proper, Faith was inundated with panicked questions. Loud voices assaulted Buffy's ears and bodies reeking of fear and stale sweat pressed in on them from all sides. She resisted the urge to shove them away. Although if that guy in the dirty white turtleneck didn't stop elbowing her, he was going to learn just how painful a slayer wedgie could be.

Hand on hip, Faith waited for the mob to quieten. When they showed no signs of doing so she rolled her eyes and started talking, but made no real attempt to be heard. Close beside her, Buffy thought it sounded as if Faith was spouting gibberish. A minute later the shouted questions died away and, aside from several crying children, the crowd fell silent.

"Okay, if everyone's finished re-enacting the Titanic," Faith said, mouth twisted with contempt. Several people coughed, but no one responded. "First of all, the protection spell ain't going anywhere for at least a couple of days."

"But--" called a male voice.

"I said," Faith said, her voice diamond hard, "it's not going anywhere." Her gaze roamed the crowd, daring them to challenge her. No one did. "Second, we've got a plan in the works and you'll all be outta here before that happens."

Buffy's mouth fell open, and she only just prevented herself from contradicting Faith.

"What's the plan?" asked a young woman with pink hair.

"You'll hear about it when you need to," Faith said. "Now, all of you, get out of my face."

The sound of squeaking and shuffling feet echoed through the auditorium as everyone tried to evade Faith's hard gaze. A path opened up towards the stage. Faith gathered Buffy with a look and strode off. Buffy followed her around the side of the stage to the rear of the auditorium.

Faith's "office" turned out to be a utility closet behind the stage. One-handed, she lit a lantern hanging from a hook with a cigarette lighter, then closed the door. Buffy looked round; empty wrappers and bottles littered the floor and in one shadowy corner sat a pile of brooms and mops, their handles missing. Faith tossed Buffy a bottle and waved her to the single stool while she herself slouched against the wall. They took a moment to gulp down some water.

"Boy, Rocky wasn't kidding." Faith wiped her brow.

"You think that was a good idea? Telling them we had a plan?"

"Got them off my back, didn't it?" Faith said, an edge to her voice.

Buffy kept her tone neutral. "But we don't have a plan."

"I know that." Faith thumped her head against the wall. "But I had to tell them something, didn't I?"

It was on the tip of Buffy's tongue to suggest that making promises you weren't sure you could keep was a bad idea, but Faith was massaging her temple, a pained expression on her face.

"I guess," Buffy said instead. She sipped some water. "If we're going to save the day, we should get started on that plan, huh?"

Faith shook herself. "Right."

"Maybe we should keep it simple," Buffy said. "Leave at dawn and make a run for the city limits."

"Yeah, that has success written all over it," Faith said, tearing open the bag of cookies and munching on one.

"You got a better idea?" She felt miffed, especially after Faith had made such a big deal about needing her help.

"No..." Faith finished chewing and swallowed. "It's just that...well, some people already tried that. And they never came back. I don't think this bunch are going to be too eager to follow in their footsteps."

"Just because they never came back doesn't mean--

"The barrier went up before they even left. Somehow I don't think those folks are sipping pina coladas in Maui, you know what I'm saying."

A shiver touched Buffy's spine. "How many people?"

"You really wanna know?" Faith said, raising an eyebrow.

Buffy thought for a moment, and slowly shook her head. "I guess not."

"Listen, don't mention this to Connor, 'kay? Kid blames himself enough already. He was sorta in charge before I got here."

Despite herself, Buffy felt a rush of sympathy for Connor. She knew how heavily the death of innocent victims could weigh on one's conscience. It couldn't always be avoided, but somehow that knowledge never really helped. A thought occurred to her.

"Wait, if this happened before you showed up, how'd you get through the barrier?"

Faith grinned. "Talked a few soldier boys into giving up their dirty little secret."

"Talked, huh? Didn't know you could do that with your fist." Buffy's stomach rumbled and she reached over to help herself to a cookie.

"I'm a woman of many talents, B."

"Hah!"

A half eaten cookie hit Buffy in the face.

* * *

Wolfram & Hart's swanky office had been reduced to five none too stable storeys. Surrounded by debris, Willow stood in the front plaza, inspecting the smashed windows and doors from a safe distance. Connor stood by her shoulder, one hand on his axe as he kept an eye out. 

She sensed no magical disturbances radiating from the building, which was disconcerting; she'd been so certain this was the source. But the senior partners were crafty enough to have shielded the office -- she had to be sure.

Willow clutched her satchel, pondering which spell to use, glad she'd had the foresight to bring supplies. It meant she could use minor spells which relied more on herbs and rituals and less on her personal power. Decision made, she reached into her satchel and withdrew several plastic bags. Using the contents, she knelt and constructed a small pyre of hickory and mandrake on the ground, then dribbled a thick circle of sea salt around Connor.

"Is all this really necessary?" he said as she finished the circle.

"After everything you've survived, you really wanna die because a rock fell on your noggin?"

Connor shrugged. "Wouldn't kill me."

Rising, she gave him a sharp look. "Yeah, well, my head's not so bouncy."

He lapsed back into silence. She knew he didn't like standing out in the open, but this spell couldn't be rushed. Not if she wanted to get it right. And with the dark magic soaking the city, she needed to be extra careful.

Willow checked to make sure everything was in place and removed a lighter from her bag. She took a deep breath and gradually exhaled it, focusing her thoughts on the spell she was about to perform. When she was ready she lit the pyre and stepped into the salt circle with Connor. Smoke rose from the herbs, releasing a spicy woody fragrance.

She began chanting in Sanskrit, infusing the spell with a smidgen of her power. It worked as a catalyst, unleashing the inherent energy of the ritual and the herbs. As she ended the chant she felt the spell begin to take form. It would've taken less than a heartbeat for her to execute the spell herself, but it would've cost her energy she might need later.

The hair on the back of her neck tickled as the energy accumulated and she felt Connor fidgeting beside her. At last the spell reached its crescendo. The air rippled as the time freeze spell exploded outwards from the pyre. Its effect was limited, but its scope was enough to encompass the ruined office. How long it would last was another matter.

Willow crossed her fingers, and stepped out of the circle. The air was still, as if the world was holding its breath. She smiled and strode to the front steps. Connor lingered a few seconds before jumping from the circle and catching up with her.

The glass doors had shattered, leaving easy access to the dusty lobby. Willow ducked through the empty doorway, carefully avoiding the sharp slivers clinging to the frame. With Connor right on her heels, she crossed the marble floor, shards of glass crunching beneath her sneakers. The lobby had an unnatural stillness which reassured Willow; it meant the spell was working. Just as well because large chunks of the ceiling and walls were missing.

She continued past the reception desk, following the curve of the wall, and stopped when they reached the elevators. Connor bumped into her. Blowing out a breath, she glared at him.

"Okay, this me and my shadow act is getting old."

"Huh?"

"You're making me nervous."

"Oh." Connor shrugged. "Sorry, but if anything happens to you Buffy'll rearrange my internal organs. I kinda like them where they are."

"She's not gonna..." Willow automatically began to defend her friend, until her brain caught up. "Oh yeah, you're right."

Connor grimaced. "Thanks."

"Welcome," she said absently. Willow sidled over to survey the warped elevator doors, her eyes sliding up to the floor numbers above. She hadn't spent enough time in the office to be familiar with its layout. Connor, on the other hand... "If you were the senior partners, where would you hide your most valuable, most evilest secrets?"

"Why do you want to know?" His tone was odd, uncertain.

Willow glanced over her shoulder. Her heart sank as she recognised the hint of suspicion in his eyes, and she wondered just how much he knew about her. He'd explained the mind wipe and recounted how they'd met, but the memory itself remained elusive. Realising she had yet to answer, Willow scrambled for a plausible reason.

"I just wanna be sure there aren't any potential weapons around, lying in wait for any innocent passers-by...who might wander into a wrecked building."

Connor shook his head. "You really think the senior partners would've left their toys behind? They're too stingy for that."

"We need to be sure."

"_I'm_ sure. Sure I don't want to mess with anything that could transform me into a...a circus freak, or a rat -- hairy backs are a turn off."

"Oh yeah? Then why are you giving me lip?"

Connor's eyes widened as her not so subtle threat registered.

Willow slapped her hand over her mouth but it was too late to take it back. For one second she'd let her frustration get the better of her.

"Er, how about you forget I said that last part?" she said.

He stared at her, brow furrowed. "Maybe it's just me, but I get the feeling you're not telling me everything."

She attempted a smile. "Who, me?"

Connor rolled his eyes. "Geez, you're a worse liar than I am. Come on, Willow. You were in such a hurry to get here you almost broke the sound barrier. And now these questions about magic weapons. You're looking for something."

"So? So what if I am? That doesn't mean I'm evil. I'm not evil!"

"I never said you were." A bemused look flitted across his face. "But it would be nice if you trusted me enough to tell me the truth. I think I've earned it."

"Oh sure, play the guilt card." But he _had_ saved her life. And told her the sordid details of his life before the mind wipe. She figured he deserved a similar gesture from her. And she had to admit, it would be a relief to tell _someone_. "Well, okay." Willow gathered her thoughts. "Wolfram & Hart...the senior partners, they did something."

"Yeah, they let loose a bunch of demons--"

"No, something worse."

He stilled. "Worse?"

"I don't know how exactly, but they're channelling dark magic into this dimension. It's changing our world"  
"They can do that?"

"They _are_ doing it." She glanced at her watch. "Listen, the balance of magic in our dimension is tipped towards good magic, white magic. It's why humans are the dominant species. It's why so many not-evil demons settle here to raise their little demon sproglets."

"And now the senior partners are trying to turn Earth into a hell dimension?"

"Yep. Except at the moment it's just L.A. I hate to say it, but those nitwits who created the barrier around the city might've accidentally done the right thing."

"So what happens if--"

"Okay, it's my turn to play Spanish Inquisitor. This time spell's not gonna last forever, you know."

Connor blinked. "Sure. What do you wanna know?"

"Hello! Magical artifacts, location of?"

"Okay, okay," he said, patting the air in a placatory gesture. "No need to get cranky."

Willow almost smiled. "Believe me, you haven't seen me get cranky. Tetchy, maybe, but not cranky."

"There's a difference?" Ignoring her pout, he scanned the lobby and pointed out a door hanging off its hinges in one corner. "I guess we should check out the basement"  
"Now we're getting somewhere," Willow said, picking her way to the corner. Without touching the door, which appeared ready to fall off entirely, she peered down into the gloom. "Wow, it's dark." An unpleasant odour, reminiscent of cat pee, wafted up her nose. She tried not to think of all the creatures that could be lurking in the basement; spiders, rats...

"Why don't you magic up a light or something?"

"Sure, or I could just..." Willow extracted a flashlight from her bag and flipped the switch, "use this." She handed it to him and retrieved a second one for herself.

He clattered down the stairs ahead of her, his muttered "Smartass" echoing up the stairwell.

Willow shook her head. "Teenagers." She descended to the first sub-level where she found Connor waiting for her.

A quick exploration revealed a long corridor with multiple doors on both sides. When Connor broke down several of them they found rooms crammed with filing cabinets. Fascinating, she was sure, but not exactly what she was looking for. They retraced their steps and continued down to the next level.

The second sub-level held another corridor, but this one wasn't so straightforward; it branched off into multiple passages. They took the first branch and forged through its twists and turns. The first door they encountered was again hanging off its hinges, making Willow wonder who else had been exploring the bowels of Wolfram & Hart. Her stomach churned.

Through the door they continued down a long flight of steps which opened out into an empty chamber. Connor glanced at her. With a shrug she swished her flashlight beam around the exit on the far side. He preceded her down the middle of the room, and unexpectedly halted in mid-stride.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I thought I saw..." He aimed his flashlight towards the side wall.

"Gah!" Willow fumbled her own flashlight, nearly dropping it.

Illuminated in the beam, like an exhibit from Madame Tussaud's wax museum, was a zombie. A quick sweep of their flashlights revealed seven more standing in alcoves along the walls. She froze, heart thudding in her chest. A glance at Connor showed he was similarly rooted to the spot.

"It's okay," she whispered, reassuring herself more than Connor. "It's okay. They're frozen." The zombies weren't trying to eat their faces so she assumed the spell was still in effect. They wore business suits, which struck Willow as incongruous. Former lawyers? she wondered with a shudder.

Connor shook himself and swung his axe off his shoulder. "How much longer is this spell going to last?"

"I'm not sure. Magic's not an exact science, you know." She wiped sweaty palms on her jeans. "I don't understand why they're still here. How come they didn't run off to join in the hijinks and mayhem?"

"Maybe they didn't know how. Zombies aren't exactly known for being the life of the party." His flashlight zigzagged wildly as he tried to keep an eye on all the creatures at once. "We should get out of here. There's no telling how many of them are on this level, just waiting for anyone suicidal enough to come down here."

"We can't leave, not yet."

"Isn't there some other way--"

"No."

Connor took one look at her grim face and nodded. "Then we'd better make this fast."

Willow forced her legs to start moving, ignoring the inner voice insisting that she leave the building_ right this minute_. Connor bypassed her, axe in hand, moving with an athletic grace she wished she could emulate. As they left the zombies behind, she breathed a little easier.

They descended another long flight of steps and emerged into a cavernous white room dominated by a huge cylinder atop a circular platform. The roof of the cylinder held jagged shards of opaque glass, suggesting that at one time it had been enclosed. The chamber was so high, the ceiling remained hidden from their flashlights.

Willow spotted a scaffolding with metal stairs leading up to some kind of control panel and went over to investigate. As she climbed to the top, her flashlight beam caught runic symbols decorating the upper edge of the cylinder. She shivered.

"Is this it?" asked Connor.

"I'm not sure."

He glanced behind him. "No rush. Really, take your time. I'll just take a nap while you figure it out."

Willow threw him a withering look, but concentrated on the panel. She pressed buttons at random but nothing happened. The console was dead. Not that it mattered. She was certain this...machine could not have opened a magical conduit between dimensions. For that a powerful ritual would have been needed.

She searched the chamber with her flashlight, but there was nothing else of interest. All this way and they'd found nothing. And she knew they were running out of time. The basement had proved to be more extensive than she'd expected. Physically, they couldn't possibly explore every nook and cranny before the spell expired. Magically, though...

Willow gripped the metal railing and closed her eyes. She hadn't wanted to do this, hadn't wanted to leave herself open to the darkness, but she no longer had a choice.

Taking a breath to centre herself, she reached out with her magical senses, looking for anything with a whiff of malevolence about it. She ploughed through the above ground levels, which held nothing more than minor magical artifacts, and moved on to the basement where she discovered another three sub-levels below. Her magical fingers probed their depths.

But she found nothing that matched the ritualistic imprint she was looking for, although the two lowest levels were awash with demonic signatures. Nor did she sense anything like the kind of power the conduit itself would be giving off, which meant _it_ wasn't on the grounds either. She opened her eyes.

Drat.

On the plus side, she realised, it meant they could skedaddle. The thought energised her and she flew down the metal steps.

"It's not here. Let's go."

Connor's jaw dropped. "But you said--"

"Nag later. Escape with our lives now." She tapped her watch.

For a second Connor looked torn, but common sense won out. He sprinted up the stairs leading from the chamber, Willow right on his tail. By the time they reached the zombie room, however, she was panting and had to slow down. Connor, oblivious to her lack of superhuman strength, pressed on without her and got to the far side first.

Willow felt the base of her spine itch. The zombies were beyond the reach of her flashlight, but she knew they were there. She trotted down the middle of the chamber, her breathing ragged.

She was only a few metres from Connor when she heard a light patter, like rain on a tin roof. She froze and saw dust float down from the ceiling, glinting in the beam from her flashlight. A growl resonated from her right and spread round the room like wildfire.

Willow snapped her flashlight sharp right and saw a zombie coming right at her, bits of flesh hanging off its face. Instinctively she whacked her satchel at its head; it didn't do any damage but it threw the zombie off balance for a few critical seconds.

"Willow, come on!"

She dashed towards Connor but pulled up short when another zombie lurched into her path. Before she could do more than gasp, there was a sickening thud and its head went flying. Connor knocked the teetering corpse out of the way, grabbed her hand, and tugged her up the stairs. They emerged on the second sub-level. Connor took a moment to jam the broken door into its frame as best he could, but Willow doubted it would hold for long. Not giving her time to catch her breath, he pulled her down the corridor.

As they turned a corner Willow heard something bang against the door. Her flashlight beam bobbed up and down as they ran, the only illumination in the corridor. She wondered when Connor had dropped his flashlight. They rounded another corner, and the banging grew more distant. It was all she could do to keep up with Connor, so when he stopped, her first impulse was relief.

Connor swivelled his head, looking up and down the gloomy corridor. "Er, I think we took a wrong turn."

Willow looked back, and realised he was right; they'd gone left instead of right after escaping the zombie room. "Are you kidding me? You're a guy! You're supposed to be good at this stuff."

"Hey, navigating mazes wasn't part of my course curriculum, okay!"

They scowled at each other for two seconds, until the distant banging reminded them of their predicament.

"So what do we do?" asked Willow.

"Do you know another way out of here?"

"No." Her heartbeat skittered. "We have to go back."

It wasn't a question but Connor nodded anyway. "The sooner the better, before those zombies--" He broke off at the faint sound of wood splintering, and heaved a sigh. "Man, I hate this place."

They exchanged grim looks, and raced back the way they'd come. But the zombies were already climbing through the demolished door when Willow and Connor turned the corner.

"Two minutes," Willow said, glaring at the zombies. "You couldn't give us two minutes!" As if in answer, their eyes glowed a putrid green.

Connor hefted his axe, and advanced to meet the approaching zombies. "Stay behind me." She sidled to the wall, angling her flashlight around Connor so he had a clear view.

The corridor was narrow enough that they couldn't attack en masse, which gave Connor an advantage. Still, Willow's mouth went dry as he met the first pair. He ducked a punch from one and swung his axe up at the other, slicing through its chest and spinning round in time to chop off the first zombie's head.

Growling, the second pair leapt at Connor. He warded off one by swinging his axe up but the other grabbed his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

Willow gathered her power. As a zombie bypassed the struggling Connor and rushed her, she released a burst of fire. The zombie went up in flames, shrieking. It reeled backwards, flailing its arms. Shadows writhed on the walls as the fire danced.

Connor shoved his opponent into the torched zombie. The fire spread from one to the other, forming a firewall between the humans and the remaining zombies. Willow couldn't help wincing in sympathy even as the screeching pierced her ears. Connor staggered over to her, panting.

"Nice," he said.

She would've answered but she was too busy gagging at the smell of charred flesh. Her eyes watered from the smoke, leaving her blind _and_ sick to her stomach. She blinked furiously.

After a minute the shrieks died away and the corpses collapsed to the ground. Through the remnants of smoke and fire, Willow glimpsed the other zombies. She wiggled her fingers at them. They took the hint and reared backwards, tottering back down the stairs and leaving a more or less clear path.

Willow wiped her eyes and looked at Connor. "Go now?"

"Hell, yeah."

He led the way past the corpses, parts of which were still smouldering, and checked the doorway to make sure the zombies weren't lurking about. Willow breathed a sigh of relief when he gave her the all-clear. They hurried on and arrived at the stairwell without any further excitement, but on entering they were engulfed by a cacophony of howls.

Startled, Willow pointed her flashlight down the stairwell. With a feeling of disbelief, she glimpsed furry creatures romping up the concrete steps. The scent of cat pee was stronger than ever. She barely had time to feel a surge of panic before Connor grabbed her hand and hauled her up towards ground level.

They made it to the sunlit lobby and broke out into a full run. But Willow was labouring; her legs felt like marshmallow and she was gasping for breath. They were only halfway across the marble floor when a loud growl raised goosebumps on her arms. Over her shoulder she saw a furry orange demon stalking them on all fours, tail bobbing in the air. It was as big as a lion and could have been mistaken for some kind of exotic animal if not for its disconcerting grin and the intelligence in its eyes. Huge fangs extended from its mouth.

"Keep going." Connor gave her a push and spun around to face the demon.

Willow obeyed but stopped short of the front doors. She couldn't leave him behind. Pivoting, she saw that the demon was only a few feet from Connor. Its muscles bunched and it leapt. Willow screamed.

Connor jammed his axe head into its maw, but went down under its considerable weight. The beast slashed a paw, and Connor yelled in pain. Blood spread over his left shoulder. He landed a couple of punches to its head, but the demon barely reacted.

Willow readied her power as she moved towards them; the closer she was, the less chance of hitting Connor. The demon's eyes snapped up, its amber gaze fixed on her. Beyond it, she spotted half a dozen more of the orange beasts round the curve of the wall. Her heart stopped.

Without conscious thought, she sent a pulse of magical energy directly at the floor beneath the demons. It disintegrated in a whirlpool of golden light. Roaring in panic and scrabbling their paws, the demons plunged into the basement.

Snarling, the demon on top of Connor leapt at her. She stumbled back, but it didn't even get close. The axe in its mouth, anchored by Connor, held it back. Grunting with the effort, Connor slammed the axe and the demon's head to the side, down into the marble. Its head crunched, but the beast continued to thrash, claws flailing.

Connor wrenched his axe free and rolled to his knees. Swiftly, before it could recover, he chopped off the demon's head. It shuddered and was still.

Grimacing, Willow looked away from the icky stuff seeping out of its neck. Connor rose, leaning on his axe for support. Blood oozed down his arm.

"God, you're really bleeding," Willow said, moving closer to examine his shoulder. He brushed her aside.

"Later. Let's get out of here first."

"Uh uh. We're not going anywhere until we stop the bleeding."

An ominous groan swept through the lobby. The walls began to tremble as dust rained down on them. Willow's gaze fell on the enormous hole in the floor; maybe that hadn't been the best use of her magic. A chunk of concrete landed with a thunk beside her. She looked at Connor.

"Okay, maybe we should leave."

"Ya think?"

They ran for the door. As the tremors worsened more debris pelted down. Willow threw her arms over her head. Sunlight beckoned, promising safety. A few more unsteady steps and she was through the door. Her arms stung as they were scraped by the glass still clinging to the frame. She scampered down the front steps and spun around.

Connor was nowhere in sight.

The lobby was an opaque swirl of dust. She took a faltering step forward, her chest so constricted she could hardly breathe. All she could think was that Angel would likely feast on her liver if she'd got his son killed. A thunderous roar rolled through the building, and the ground shook. Dust billowed out the lobby, and with it came Connor, diving through the doorway.

Willow sighed; she'd get to keep her liver.

Connor rolled to his feet with a cocky grin. Blood trickled down the side of his face.

"Told you a thump on the head wouldn't kill me," he said.

Gritting her teeth, she hunkered down to rummage through her bag. She pulled out a small first-aid kit. Connor knelt down and peeked into her bag. "You got a kitchen sink in there too?"

"I like to be prepared." She stared at him. "You're awfully chipper for someone who nearly got squished."

He shrugged. "But I didn't."

Willow rolled her eyes and began mopping up the blood on his arm. As she did so, she experienced a startling moment of clarity in which everything seemed to come into sharp focus.

"Oh my God. I'm such a nincompoop."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself." Connor squinted at her. "What's a nincompoop?"

She stared at the gauze in her hand. Connor's blood. Angel's blood. Why hadn't she seen it before?

"Willow? You okay?"

"Better than okay." Willow grinned. "I know how to find Angel."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for the reviews, they always give me warm fuzzies. :) Apologies again for the slow updates. The good news is that I've worked out a possible ending and I'm confident I'll be finishing this fic. Eventually.

* * *

The sun was approaching its zenith. Buffy sat at the bottom of the front steps using a knife to sharpen stakes. Considering how often she kept glancing at the road, it was a wonder her thumb was still attached.

Other than the always present armed guards, she was the only one not attending the town meeting inside. Judging from the shouts Buffy could hear even through the closed doors, things weren't going so well. Not that she was surprised since she knew all too well that Faith couldn't tell them what they wanted to hear. The slayers had pounded out several plans, all variations on the same theme -- racing to the city's outskirts as fast as humanly possible -- but in the end everything depended on Willow and her ability to break through the barrier. They couldn't make any final decisions without consulting the witch.

Which left Buffy with nothing to do but take stock of the weapons supply and...brood. She couldn't rid herself of the nagging feeling that she'd failed Angel and Spike. What she needed was the reassurance of her best friend...

A momentary swell of voices alerted Buffy that someone was coming out. Over her shoulder she observed Jean trudge down the steps.

"Hi Buffy."

"Hey."

After a moment's hesitation Jean sat beside Buffy, linking her hands beneath her knees. "I needed some air. It's getting a little heated in there."

"Yeah, that tends to happen when people are in headless chicken mode."

Jean gave her a curious look. "You don't think they have good reason to panic?"

"They have the best reason ever. But it still number one on the list of Least Helpful Things to Do When Demons Attack."

"Not everyone has your strength and experience."

Buffy looked her up and down. "I don't see you screaming and hollering."

"I don't have that luxury," Jean said with a rueful shrug. "I have to look out for Melissa and Abby."

"Some would say that's an even better reason to panic." She waved the knife towards the auditorium. "Are the girls okay in there?"

"Sure. They're playing in the dressing rooms with the other kids."

Hesitating, Buffy lay down her knife. "Hey, I'm sorry about your husband. I wanted to tell you that before, but we kinda got interrupted."

Jean nodded, mouth pursed into something halfway between a smile and a grimace. She stared into the distance. "It's just hard, you know. Losing someone you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with."

"Yeah," Buffy said around the lump in her throat. Again she found herself thinking of Angel. It'd been a long time since she'd believed they had a future together, yet she was feeling his loss as acutely as the night she'd sent him to hell.

A minute passed in silence.

Jean cleared her throat. "I haven't told anyone what Willow said, about no one being able to get out -- everyone's freaked out as it is -- but I have to know: Are we going to survive this?"

Buffy traced her fingertips along the stake she held, testing its sharpness, taking comfort in the solid strength of the pinewood. She felt she owed Jean an honest answer, but the last thing they needed was another Chicken Little running around the auditorium.

"It's not for me to say," Buffy said. "All I can tell you is that I've been in worse situations...and I'm still standing."

"Because you're a slayer."

"Because I didn't fight alone." Buffy smiled at the surprise in Jean's eyes. "I had Willow and Faith. And there were others..." Disjointed memories of friends and lovers whirled through her mind. She inhaled a deep breath. "Our best chance of surviving is to work together. Fighting amongst ourselves is a sure ticket to a horrible painful death."

Jean made a face. "Thanks for not sugar coating it...I think." She cocked her head towards the auditorium. "Maybe you should be making your point in there."

Buffy shook her head. "Those people don't know me. But they trust Faith; if anyone can hold them together, it'll be her."

Stretching her arms, Jean stood. "I should go check on the girls." She looked down at Buffy. "You have the strangest life."

"You haven't heard my best stories yet."

Jean paused, shook her head in a bemused fashion, and moved away, leaving Buffy to return to her contemplation. She picked up the knife.

"Buffy!" The shout came from the road.

Buffy stood, relief surging through her at the sight of Willow and Connor hurtling down the road. They were moving so fast, she thought they were being chased at first, but nothing appeared behind them.

Willow came off the bike without braking properly and nearly introduced her face to the concrete paving. Buffy cringed, but Willow stumbled on, unfazed, her face glowing as if from a caffeine-induced high.

Meeting her halfway, Buffy reached out to steady her friend. "Will, slow down. What's got you all--"

"Buffy, I know how to find Angel!"

She felt the blood drain from her face. "But Angel's..."

"Angel's what?" Connor joined them, dragging both bikes. "Did you find him already?"

"No, I..." Buffy saw his bandaged shoulder and bloodied t-shirt. "What happened?" Her alarm grew as she noticed how dusty and scratched up they both were. She grabbed Willow's arm to inspect her injuries.

"Buffy, I'm fine," Willow said, yanking her arm away. "We just ran into some...feral cats, that's all."

"Cats did this?"

"Well, they were cat-like. But that doesn't matter now." Willow bounced on her toes. "Didn't you hear me? I found a way to locate Angel."

"I heard you. Are...are you sure about this, Will?"

"Absolutely. Okay, not a hundred percent cause no magic is a hundred percent, but pretty sure. It's just a variation on your standard locator spell. I don't know why I didn't think of it before...kinda obvious with the vampire-blood connection. But I guess not all the brain cells are firing..." Willow finally noticed Buffy's lack of enthusiasm. "Why so down in the dumpy, Buffy? I thought you'd be happy."

"I am." Buffy forced a smile. "See, happy face."

"Yeesh, you look like the Joker," Connor said.

Buffy dropped the smile. "And you oughta spend more time reading books instead of comics."

"Hey, Batman is a classic!"

"Cut it out," said Willow, also losing her smile.

"He started it," Buffy said, glaring at Connor.

He glared back. "And you've been on my case ever since you got here."

"That's enough!" Willow said. "God, you two are worse than...than Sylvester and Tweety. Well, I don't need your negative vibes screwing up my spell. And neither does Angel."

With a toss of her head, she stomped off. Sneaking a sheepish glance at Buffy, Connor slunk away, the bikes rattling in his wake.

A part of Buffy knew she should call Willow back and tell her to start working on a way to break through the barrier. Yet she couldn't help nurturing the tiny hope that Angel and his gang were still alive somewhere in the city. Surely it wouldn't hurt to let Willow perform one teensy locator spell.

Faith exited the auditorium and paused to chat with Willow. Wrestling with her conscience, Buffy observed the pair, sure that the dark-haired slayer would take the decision out of her hands and put the whammy on Willow's plan. But after a minute witch and slayer parted without any apparent discord, Willow entering the foyer and Faith skipping down the steps towards Buffy.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" Buffy said as soon as Faith was within earshot.

Looking a little too nonchalant, Faith shrugged. "Figured it couldn't hurt to let her try."

"Okay, what's with the 180? You said Angel was--"

"I know what I said." Faith glanced over at the stacked bicycles, where Connor was fiddling with the seat on one. "You wanna tell the kid his dad's blowing in the wind? Cause I sure as hell don't."

Buffy gritted her teeth. "What do we do when the spell doesn't work?"

"Nothing. We let Willow explain it."

"She'll think it's her fault."

Averting her eyes, Faith raked a hand through her hair. "Right now, Connor needs to believe Angel's still alive."

Buffy watched Connor take the front steps two at a time and disappear into the foyer. "You can't protect him forever."

"I can try. For Angel's sake."

With a dramatic finger-point worthy of Nancy Drew, Buffy said, "So you _do_ believe Connor's his son."

Faith rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like I wanted to get into _that_ discussion with you. Don't we have enough issues?"

Buffy could hardly argue with that. "You're right. Issues galore." She sighed; she didn't feel quite as old as Methuselah, but she was getting there. "Did you tell her about the plan?"

"Was I supposed to?"

Buffy sighed again, and trotted up the steps.

After wandering through the packed auditorium for ten minutes, Buffy found Willow sitting cross-legged in a corner of the foyer, almost hidden among the piles of cardboard boxes. She wore a clean blue t-shirt, but the lustre of her bright red hair remained muted by a fine coating of dust. As Willow daubed her arms with stinky herbal cream, Buffy insinuated herself into the small space. The witch looked up.

"Buffy, hey. Um, I'm not ready yet. It's gonna take me at least a couple of hours to prepare the spell."

"That long?" As she sank to the floor Buffy's misgivings returned with a vengeance. They were running low on time as it was, and she was well aware that a couple of hours could make all the difference.

"I have to tweak the spell," Willow said, oblivious to Buffy's mental struggles. "Find a way to incorporate Connor's blood into the mix. And I'll have to make Connor invisible to the spell or it might fixate on him. That's going to take time."

Buffy opened her mouth intending to tell Willow to forget about the locator spell, but the words stuck in her throat. She couldn't do it; she couldn't shut the door on Angel and Spike and the others.

"Buffy?" Willow was staring at her.

She swallowed. "It's nothing."

"Uh huh," Willow said, arching an eyebrow. "Well, why don't you humour me and get "nothing" off your chest."

Leaning her elbows on her knees, Buffy hunched forward. "The natives are getting restless, that's all. They know this protection spell is about to go kaput and they want out."

"Oh," Willow said, frowning.

"Look, Faith has got some gas stockpiled. Now we figure if we shuttle the injured and young'uns in the car and everyone else double times it, we should make it to the barrier in a few hours. So I need you to work on making a hole in it as soon as you're done here."

"That's the plan?" Willow gulped. "The...only plan?"

"The only one that doesn't involve death and dismemberment. It's not fancy, I'll grant you, but it'll get the job done."

"It's a good plan, really...except for the actual escaping part." As if searching for a way out, her eyes darted around the foyer before finally landing on Buffy. "I can't break through the shield," Willow confessed.

"Huh." Buffy waited for Willow to grin and yell "Psych", but as the seconds ticked by it dawned on her that Willow wasn't joking. "Okay, I know I didn't mention the part where all our lives depend on you, but I kinda thought it was screamingly obvious. Emphasis on the screaming."

Willow winced. "Oh goody. More pressure."

Buffy felt a stab of remorse. "Will, I'm sorry." She squeezed Willow's knee. "But...I don't get it. Yesterday you were all confident wicca gal. What's changed?"

"Nothing's changed." Willow busied herself with packing up her first-aid kit. "We were outside then."

"What's the diff?"

"We weren't inside," Willow said, as if that explained everything.

Buffy clenched her jaw. "Will, remember how I'm the village idiot when it comes to magic stuff?"

Willow quirked her mouth. "Buffy, the barrier was made to keep the demons in. It's like prison -- harder to break out than it is to break in." She thought for a second. "Unless you're Faith."

"You're leaving me with zero options here." Closing her eyes, Buffy massaged her scalp with her fingers.

"I know. I know the clock is ticking, but...right now I don't know how to get us out of L.A. I _do_ know how to find Angel."

Buffy felt as if she was standing before a set of giant scales levering up and down. On one side -- several hundred innocent lives. On the other -- Angel, Spike, Wesley... In theory, it was no contest. Angel himself would've said so. But her need to know, once and for all, whether Angel was still alive overwhelmed all other considerations. Hoping she wouldn't come to regret her decision, Buffy nodded.

"Okay. We'll do this the Willow way."

Willow smiled, but she seemed oddly subdued. Taking a closer look at her friend, Buffy was startled to realise how pale and washed out Willow looked. She couldn't possibly have lost weight just in the last day, yet she appeared frighteningly stick figury.

"When was the last time you ate?" Buffy demanded in her best mom voice.

Willow started. "What? Oh, er..." Evading Buffy's gaze, she began rummaging inside her bag as if she was trying to dive right in.

Buffy crossed her arms. "If you have to think about it, I'm not gonna like the answer."

Giving up, Willow came up for air. "Last night. But I'm good, really. I'll eat something as soon as I've--"

"Angel can wait five minutes. You're not going to do him much good if you pass out."

"You sound like Giles," Willow said with a wistful smile. She looked down, fingering the amethyst set in her silver bangle. "I wish he was here."

"Given the direness of our situation, I'm kinda glad he's not," Buffy said as she shifted to her knees to forage in several of the cardboard boxes. She held up a can. "How do you feel about pickled herrings?"

Willow blanched.

"Relax," Buffy said, suppressing a grin. "I saved you some cookies."

* * *

Three hours later Buffy, Faith, Connor and Willow gathered at the side of the auditorium, where the rental car was parked in the shade of an oak tree. A map of L.A. was laid out on the bonnet, anchored in each corner with a pebble, and dotted with patches of sunlight filtering through the branches.

Connor stood beside the car, clutching a clear quartz crystal ball as if it were a grenade. Buffy watched Willow prick his finger and collect several drops of blood in a vial. If this spell worked there would be no denying Connor was who he claimed to be. She felt a momentary ache, like a splinter in her heart, a longing for something she could never have.

Willow inhaled a deep breath and emptied a small bowl of fine powder into her hand. Facing Connor, she began chanting in Latin. Buffy had no idea if it was in fact Latin, but it was all Latin to her. The witch blew the powder over Connor, who sneezed. The crystal ball glowed for a second and faded.

Nodding in satisfaction, Willow turned to the map. Holding another clear crystal in her palm, this one faceted like a diamond, Willow began another chant, dripping Connor's blood onto the crystal. As she finished the incantation she cast the crystal into the air. It stopped in mid-air above the centre of the map and started spinning.

Buffy caught her breath; she'd never lost her awe for Willow's abilities. The crystal began emitting golden rays which swept over each quadrant of the map and finally coalesced into a single beam which zeroed in on the L.A. zoo.

They watched the beam fade away in silence, absorbing the revelation. Buffy was torn between jumping for joy and not wanting to get her hopes up. She looked up and saw Faith staring at the map, sheer disbelief on her face.

"What would they be doing at the zoo?" Willow said.

"I'm thinking smorgasbord," Faith said, tearing her eyes from the map. Everyone stared at her. "What? They need blood, right?"

Willow's eyes widened. "You mean like koala bears and orang-utans?"

Buffy patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, Will. I'm sure Angel and Spike'll eat the ugly animals first."

Willow moaned.

"Oops," Buffy said. "Did I say first? I meant only."

Mouth curved downward, Willow looked unconvinced.

"What're we waiting for? Let's go," Connor said, shaking powder off his head.

Buffy hesitated. With morale on the downslide she didn't think it a good idea for both Connor and Faith to leave the troops. And when it came down to it she preferred Faith at her side.

Connor had a mutinous look in his eye, as if he knew what she was thinking. About to speak, Buffy was pre-empted by a flare of purple light. She snapped her head round to see a purple glow emanating from her best friend.

Lifting her arm, Willow stared at the pulsating amethyst in her bangle.

"What the hell?" Faith said, falling back a step.

"Willow?" Buffy stretched out a hand, but stopped short of touching her friend.

Luminous, Willow smiled at Buffy. "It's Xander."

Buffy blinked. "Xander? How? Where?"

"I don't know." Willow bit her lip. "I'll have to teleport to wherever he is."

"Hey. Whoa." Afraid Willow would literally disappear, Buffy grasped her hand. "No premature teleportations. We'll go find him together."

"There's no time, Buffy. You know that." Gently she disengaged her hand. "It's okay. You go get Angel. I'll bring Xander back." Before Buffy could respond, Willow vanished in a tornado of sparkly light.

After a moment Buffy closed her mouth and looked at Faith and Connor.

"I'm coming with you," Connor said, his hands clenched.

She so did not have time for this. "Fine. Get in the car, Junior."

His eyes boggled, then he bolted to the car, throwing his axe in before him.

Buffy snickered. "Looks like you drew the short straw," she said to Faith.

"Huh?"

"Someone's gotta stay here and babysit."

"Oh no. No way."

Buffy clapped a hand on Faith's shoulder. "It sucks to be the responsible one, but I know you're up to the challenge, grasshopper," Buffy said in tones of mock superiority. The dark-haired slayer looked from Buffy to Connor and back.

"Why does he get to go?" whined Faith, though her expression was already resigned.

"Because I'm driving and he's expendable."

"Hmm, good point," Faith said, way too quickly.

Buffy frowned. "I was kidding. My driving's not that bad."

"It's not that good either," Faith said, flashing a grin. Her mood seemed to have improved -- at Buffy's expense.

Scowling, Buffy grabbed the map and rounded the car. "Everyone's a comedian," she muttered. As she opened the door, Faith called her name and she looked up.

"Good luck," Faith said. "Tell Angel I'm gonna kick his ass."

Buffy snorted. "Get in line."

* * *

For those of you who've been wondering when Angel shows up, he pops up in the next chapter. 


	9. Chapter 9

Apologies for the delay. The festive season was hectic! Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

Xander drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Way out in the suburbs near the barrier there wasn't any demon activity, but waiting out in the open was giving him the distinct whiff of sitting duck. Add to that what was in the back of the truck and his stomach felt as if he were going over Niagara Falls in a barrel.

He glanced at his wrist; the amethyst was still pulsating. He wished Buffy and Willow would get here so he could remove the girly jewellery. Not really a good look for him. Judging by his smirk, the soldier who'd handed him the keys to the truck had shared that opinion.

The street where he was parked was lined with bungalows, nothing out of the ordinary, but the utter silence was unnerving, not to mention creepy as hell. No kids playing, no dogs barking, no lawn mowers...mowing. He felt as if he was the only person alive in L.A.

A minute passed and he began to worry that he'd somehow messed up the incantation. Either that or Buffy and Willow... Nope. He refused to believe that they were anything but in the best of health. Xander shook his head; those damn marines and their horror stories.

A tornado of light swirled into existence on the road, the sparkly wind coalescing into Willow. Grinning, Xander hopped out to greet her, but his grin disappeared when he realised his best bud was swaying and staggering. He reached her just as her knees buckled, catching her before she hit the tarmac. Trying not to panic, he lowered her to the ground, cradling her head on his arm.

"Will!"

Her eyes fluttered open. "Xander, hey."

"What happened?" Her eyes began to roll back in her head and he lightly slapped her cheek. "Oh no, you don't."

Willow's eyes popped open. "I'll be okay in a minute." She blinked. "You two Xanders talk amongst yourselves."

He observed her slow, deep breaths, noting the angry scratches on her arms. Guess it hadn't all been fun and games in the city of angels. He waited, keeping his eye on the quiet street. After a few minutes she stirred and levered herself upright. He supported her with a hand on her back.

"What just happened?" Xander said.

"It's been a long day, is all. And I kinda did that teleportation spell on the fly." She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face and gave him a crooked smile. "Guess I should've fought Buffy harder for that last cookie."

"Uh huh." Xander didn't bother trying to hide his scepticism. "Still haven't won that poker tournament, huh?"

Her cheeks grew pink and she looked away, her eyes alighting on the eight-wheeler. "Wow, big truck." Clinging to Xander, she got to her feet and wandered towards it. He let her go; whatever she was holding back, he'd get it out of her sooner or later. With long strides he joined her and patted the camouflaged exterior.

"Got this baby from the army. It's armoured and everything."

"The army gave you a truck? All we got was a gun pointed at us. What's with the sudden philanthropy?"

"Well..." Xander shoved his hands in his baggy olive pants, also a gift from the army. He couldn't explain about the truck without telling her what was in the back of the truck, and he really, really didn't want her to faint again. To his relief she seemed distracted, craning her neck and peeking through the windscreen.

"No Giles?"

"What am I? Chopped Xander?" he grumbled good-naturedly.

She whirled to face him, stricken. "No! I'm glad you're here. Well, not too glad cause things are looking grim and grimmer, but..." Impulsively she hugged him. "You're my favourite one-eyed friend."

Xander felt his balls shrink. "Oh God, the world's gonna end, isn't it?"

Willow pulled back. "No, no...well, maybe. But you know what, now that you're here I'm feeling so much more optimistic. It's like a sign, a sign of hope and," she peered up at him, "the pitter-pattering feet of slayers charging to our rescue?"

"Sorry, Will. Not so much with the pitter-pattering."

She looked crestfallen. "The stomping?"

Xander squeezed her hands. "They're not coming."

A wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. "But you're here." Her eyes narrowed. "Why would the army let you in and not the slayers?"

"My goofy charm?"

Willow slipped her hands from his and set them on her hips. He tried a grin (Work, goofy charm, work!) but she wasn't buying it. Xander puffed out a breath.

"Okay, here's the thing--"

A distant screech echoed across the rooftops. They both started and spun around, but nothing was moving except palm tree fronds.

Willow shivered. "Maybe we should get going."

"Whatever you say, Will," Xander said quickly. Saved by the scary monster. He escorted Willow to the passenger side before jogging round to the driver's side. "Where to?" he said as he hauled himself in.

She nibbled her lip. "Where exactly are we?"

"Burbank. The military are camped out at the airport."

"Huh." Willow sagged against the door. Xander dug into a backpack sitting on the floor of the cab and handed her a bottle of water and a candy bar.

"Here. You look like you should be haunting a creepy mansion." He meant it as a joke, but it wasn't far from the truth.

"Easy on the flattery. It'll go to my head." But she ripped open the candy bar and took several bites at once. "Head to Griffith Park," she said, mouth full. "We need to go to the zoo."

Xander cocked his eyebrow. "Is this really the time for sightseeing?"

Willow gave him a_ look_. "Angel's there. And Buffy's speeding to the rescue as we speak."

"Huh. I always knew he belonged in a cage." Xander turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. Willow reached over to smack his arm, but it was half hearted at best. He'd been wondering where Buffy was, but now he found himself relieved she wasn't here. Of his two best friends, Buffy was the most likely to hurt him.

"Oh, here," he said. Reaching inside his jacket, he extracted an envelope. "This is from Giles."

"A_ letter_?" Incredulous, she took it. "What, he had more important things to do?"

Xander shrugged as he pulled away from the kerb. "Turns out his old watcher buddy has about as much influence with the Pentagon as Miss Piggy." He kept his eye on the road as the truck picked up speed. "Giles thought he should stay behind and try to convince the military to take down the barrier and let the slayers do cleanup duty."

Willow perked up. "Giles can be pretty persuasive when he's all riled up."

"Well, I guess he wasn't psychotic enough cause they didn't go for it."

"Poopheads. Why not?"

"The bigwigs at Homeland Security decided to go with their contingency plan."

"They have a contingency plan?" Willow said, eyes widening. "For this?"

Something drifted over the truck, briefly casting them in shadow. Xander exchanged a nervous look with Willow.

"Probably just a big bird," she said, determinedly upbeat. "Nothing to worry about."

"If we were on Sesame Street I'd agree with you, Will, but I don't think this 'big bird' is just a guy dressed up--" Xander broke off as the shape passed over again, this time coming from the rear. Easing his foot off the gas, he leaned over the steering wheel, trying to spot the source. A magnificent winged creature overtook the truck. It banked and came back towards them, almost skimming the road. Xander felt his heart spasm.

It was a dragon.

"Holy Moses!" he said.

As the dragon closed in it opened its jaw. A stream of blue fire shot straight at them. Willow screamed.

Xander jerked the steering wheel but the heavy truck was slow to manoeuvre. Blue flames struck the windscreen for several terrifying seconds and moved across the roof of the cab with a loud crackling noise. He realised the fire was going to engulf his unprotected cargo.

"Oh crap. The nuke!"

Willow whipped her head round. "The_ what_?"

He didn't dare look at her; the wrath of Willow was not a pretty sight.

"Xander--"

"Not now, Will. I'm trying to get us back into the frying pan."

She clammed up, but he could feel her evil eye on him.

Xander flattened the gas pedal. The dragon circled overhead, unleashing bursts of streaming fire. He did his best to dodge them and managed to avoid the worst of the flames, but the road was only so wide. Xander knew he couldn't keep up this game of tag for much longer.

Then the dragon disappeared from sight. Stomach roiling, Xander swivelled his head back and forth so he could scan the entire road. He was pretty damn sure the creature hadn't suddenly found religion and decided to let them go.

A thunderous whoosh was their only warning. Before he could react, fire rained down from above, plunging the entire cab in a waterfall of blue flame. Willow gasped and scooted to the middle of the seat. Stubbornly hanging on to the steering wheel, Xander tried swerving the truck into the other lane, but the fire seemed to encompass the entire width of the road. Surrounded by roaring heat, he felt as if they were driving through hell.

After the longest seconds of Xander's life, the flames ceased and a dark body coasted down the road shrieking its triumph. The truck shuddered and groaned as sweat poured down Xander's face, stinging his eye.

He heard Willow muttering and glanced at her. Her eyes were closed, her face blank with concentration.

"Are you praying?" Xander said. "Put in a good word for me, will ya?"

Willow flicked open an eye. "Glamour spell."

"Wait, five minutes ago you were nearly unconscious."

"We don't much choice. Another hit like that and we're gonna be oven roasted people!"

"But--"

"Xander, it's a simple spell. So simple even you could do it."

"Hey...or thanks. I'm not sure." He was feeling a tad frazzled; maybe his brain was melting.

"Xander! We don't have time for this. It's coming back around."

And sure enough, through the cracked windscreen, he saw the dragon circling for another pass. Xander made the only decision he could. "Okay, do it." He listened to Willow resume her chanting, hoping the spell wouldn't take too much out of her. He could imagine Buffy's reaction if he showed up with both a nuclear bomb _and_ a comatose Willow.

The dragon grew larger as it swooped closer, filling the windscreen. Xander clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to break Willow's concentration. The dragon opened its jaw...

A tingle zapped through him. Assuming that Willow had performed the spell, Xander swerved into the left lane. The dragon pulled out of its attack, hovering in mid-air with steady flaps of its wings. Xander held his breath as they drove under its right wing, close enough to make out the greeny black scales on its body. He wondered if the dragon would hear the truck's engine over its own wing beats.

His hands trembled, but he held the wheel steady as he observed the dragon in the off-side mirror. It let off a few bursts of blue dragon's breath in random directions but the truck had already travelled beyond its range. With a screech of fury the dragon took off.

Xander crumpled in relief and took his foot off the gas. He glanced over at Willow. She looked white, but she was still conscious. In fact, judging by her frowny face, she was probably doing better than he was right now.

"Xander Harris, you've got some explaining to do."

She sounded remarkably like his mother.

* * *

They cruised north along the Golden State Freeway. Abandoned cars littered the road, but they'd all been pushed to the sides, which made for a mostly clear run down the middle lanes. Warm air flowed past Buffy's open window. Revelling in the speed and open horizon, she nearly didn't spot the battered pink convertible jutting out into the lane. At the last second she zigzagged to avoid it. Tyres squealed. 

Connor clutched the dashboard. "Buffy, maybe you oughta slow down some. I mean, what's the rush?"

Buffy grinned at him and he pointed frantically at the road. Laughing, she faced forward just in time to avoid sideswiping a banked car. "You fight demons and you're afraid of a little speed."

"A_ little_ speed? I'm surprised we're not halfway to the moon by now."

But Buffy's mood was too good to be spoiled by the nervous nelly cringing in the passenger seat. Willow's spell wouldn't have worked if Angel were a pile of ash. Ergo, he was alive. And with any luck he wasn't alone.

Against the backdrop of the mountains, Buffy spotted a creature flapping in the distance. It could almost be mistaken for a bird, but something about it gave her the wiggins. Maybe it was the predatory way it hovered over one particular area. With a speed that startled her, it swooped down and she lost sight of it.

Buffy shivered, and pressed harder on the gas. Connor made an odd choking noise which she ignored. As entertaining as it was, frightening him wasn't the sole reason she was driving so fast. She felt more exposed on the freeway, despite the fact that it was demon free. Unlike the streets they'd zipped through on the way to the 110.

There was something surreal about seeing demons out in broad daylight. Their natural milieu was the night, hidden from human eyes. It'd made Buffy's blood boil to see them foraging out in the open as if they had nothing to fear. Had it not been for her mission and the fact that she and Connor were way outnumbered, she would've stopped to remind the demons what fear was. In fact, maybe she'd do it on the way back...

A sign indicating the exit to the zoo flashed by. Buffy slowed the car. A cluster of derelict cars turned the off ramp into something of an obstacle course, but they made it through with only a dented side mirror, which she hoped would escape Willow's notice.

Stomach tingling, Buffy coasted along Zoo Drive. Connor sat up straight, scanning the lawn like the Terminator. The park was quiet, with only the overgrown grass and absence of people indicating anything out of the ordinary. It reminded Buffy of Sunnydale after the evacuation but before the big showdown with the First. She entered the parking lot, vacant except for three wrecked cars, and braked to a halt near the entry plaza.

The front gates stood wide open, but beyond the gates she could see steps on the path, which probably wouldn't do wonders for the car's suspension. Buffy tapped a finger on the steering wheel, conscious of Connor's curious gaze. From repressed memories of a junior high visit, she vaguely recalled a service road looping the zoo. All they had to do was find a way in. She eased the car onto the grass and drove around the perimeter.

"Er, maybe we should leave the car here," Connor said, sounding oddly hopeful. "You could take a break from driving."

"Too conspicuous. We don't need any demons stopping by for a looksee."

He mumbled something she didn't catch.

Amidst a stand of eucalypts bordering the zoo she saw what she was looking for -- a gap in the fence -- and steered the car towards it. The sedan began to bounce on the lawn as she accelerated...and accelerated. They ploughed through the fence, metal scraping the flanks of the car. Buffy slammed on the brakes as an island of greenery loomed up before them. Connor screamed and threw his arms up in front of his face, but the car skidded to a halt just short of a huge spreading tree trunk.

Connor shot her a dirty look and clambered out of the car. Suppressing a grin, Buffy got out to take a gander. The green patch where they'd almost come to a messy end was encircled by the main path. To their left the path wound deeper into the zoo grounds, to their right was the entry plaza and a bunch of administrative buildings. Although her intuition told her Angel would be hiding in a less obvious place, she didn't want to leave anything to chance.

As efficiently as a S.W.A.T. team, Buffy and Connor searched a conference room and several offices. The rooms were messy, furniture upended and smashed. A faint odour of stale blood lingered throughout and several rooms had blood smeared on the walls and carpet. In one office they found a pair of severed feet, both lefties, and scattered human bones. Buffy was glad to emerge back into the warm sunshine and fresh air.

A greenish tinge circled Connor's mouth. "The blood...you don't think--"

"No, I don't," Buffy said, cutting him off before he could articulate his concern.

"Even if they were really hungry?" His voice betrayed his uncertainty, and she felt an unexpected (and unwanted) surge of maternal emotion.

"Even then," she said, softening her voice. "Anyway, vampires don't eat fle...I mean, the bodies wouldn't have been in pieces." She hesitated. "Probably."

"Okay," he said, not looking a whole lot better. Wiping his mouth, he took a deep breath. "Now what?"

"Now," she squared her shoulders, "we go on safari."

On the way back to the car they stopped to filch candy, potato chips and sodas from the kiosk. As they neared the sedan Connor skipped ahead of her and got behind the wheel. Rolling her eyes, Buffy slid into the passenger seat and tossed the snacks in the back seat. He looked at her, a hint of challenge in his gaze.

"All you had to do was ask," she said with a grin. Connor's mouth fell open. Looking dazed, he turned the ignition.

They took the left path, passing between two stagnant ponds, and turned right onto the loop road. As the car crawled along Buffy noticed a metal frame encased with wire poking above the trees; but with an SPF of zero it wasn't worth stopping to check it out.

They were rolling down an avenue of trees when, without warning, Connor hit the brakes, throwing Buffy forward. Since they were travelling at a pace even a ninety year old with a walker could have outstripped, she'd neglected to put her seat belt on.

"Okay, that's it, grandma," she said. "We're swapping."

"Sssh, I heard something." He cut the engine and stuck his head out the window.

"Like what?"

"Sssh."

Exhaling an explosive breath, Buffy got out of the car. She scanned the area but saw nothing among the trees or on the path. Further ahead a covered terrace sat at the top of a small hill and she left the car to get a better view. Twin spires extended from its roof, which was supported by wooden poles. The sides were open, allowing both easy access and escape. Connor's footsteps approached.

"Did you see something?" he said.

"Sssh." Buffy stilled, listening, but heard only her own heartbeat and Connor's fidgeting. The zoo seemed vacant of life, animal or otherwise, although her spidey sense told her they weren't alone. But she was starting to realise that finding Angel could take hours, even with limiting the search to covered buildings. Chewing her lip, she pondered whether or not they should split up.

"Dad!" shouted Connor.

Buffy's stomach somersaulted. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Dad!"

She slapped a hand over his mouth. "Will you cut that out. You're going to--"

A wet, sticky sound came from behind. Buffy's neck prickled. She wheeled round, snatching at the sword across her back, but her wrist was caught by a snapping tentacle. Two more tentacles latched onto her ankles and she was hoisted into the air. Connor let out a muffled cry. Her stomach dropped as she saw their captor, a creature eight feet tall, its face hidden behind a writhing mass of at least a dozen tentacles.

Buffy swung her free arm but it was like punching jello. The creature responded by smashing its captives together. Pain rocketed through Buffy's head as it smacked into Connor's. The edges of her vision blurred and she had to bite her lip to keep from passing out.

The creature brought Connor up close and personal, inspected him with baleful red eyes, and tossed him aside. He sailed through the air like a sack of potatoes, and she heard an ominous thud as he disappeared among the foliage. Then Buffy was drawn up against the demon's slimy body. It stank as if it had crawled out the depths of hell.

"I'll make you a deal," she said, eyes watering from the rotten egg smell. "You let me go and I won't call you stinky."

Next thing she knew she was flying through the air. Instinctively she went limp, clawing at the branches brushing her body but unable to find purchase. She collided with a tree trunk and dropped to the ground, losing her breath and all sensation in her limbs. For a minute all she could do was lie in the grass, immersed in a cool earthy scent.

She listened as the demon slithered away, the sound growing distant, and considered lying there until it went away. The image of Faith's smirk floated across her mind. Buffy groaned and rolled to her knees; she'd never live it down if she let the snot monster from hell get the better of her.

Drawing her sword, she lurched to her feet. Her wrist was burning. Glancing down, she discovered a raw weeping bracelet where she used to have skin. She sighed. At least her wrist wasn't broken.

"Stupid stinky demon." Tightening her grip on her weapon, she stalked back to the main trail. Back where she'd started, she found no sign of Connor, only a glistening trail of slime. She hesitated, but the decision was made for her when Connor emerged from the other side of the path clutching his lower back.

"That went well," he said, straightening with a wince.

"You okay?"

"Fine. Pissed, but okay. You?"

"Ditto. I say we teach Stinky what happens when he messes with a slayer and a...well, whatever you are."

Connor smiled and hefted his axe. "I'm in."

With mutual resolve they set off after the demon, following the mucus trail glistening in the late afternoon sun. It led off the main path up the hill towards the east side of terrace. They were half way up the slope when they heard a yell. Buffy's heartbeat skipped; the male voice sounded familiar. Abandoning all caution, she raced towards the voice, Connor right beside her.

She reached the threshold of the covered terrace and paused. At first all she could make out was thrashing tentacles, but after a few seconds her eyes adjusted to the murky interior. She spotted a body skidding towards them across the polished floor and jumped aside, watching as a woman clad in leather and blue paint slid past and tumbled down the slope.

A roar resonated through the terrace. Buffy spun round in time to see the demon sweep Spike aside and go after Angel, who dodged behind a concrete pillar. Without hesitation Connor rushed the demon from behind.

"Wait!" Buffy yelled, but he didn't stop.

Leaping high, he slammed his axe into the creature's body but the blade slid down the demon's slippery hide without penetrating. Connor landed amidst writhing tentacles and backflipped, but a tentacle caught him in mid-air and sent him crashing into a cluster of round tables. That thing made Speedy Gonzales look decrepit, thought Buffy.

The demon went back to flogging the pillar, attempting to get at Angel. Its blows shook the roof and filled the air with concrete dust. So intent was it on Angel, it took no notice of her. Buffy studied the creature, hunting for the weakness every demon possessed, no matter how many arms they had. A memory of small red eyes flashed through her mind. When in doubt go for the eyes.

Buffy flipped her short sword and raised it as if it were a spear. "Hey, Stinky!" As the demon twisted to look at her she hurled the sword. For a moment she thought she'd hit a home run, but at the last second a tentacle swatted her sword away, sending it thunking through a wooden pole. Buffy sighed; it'd been worth a try, though she should have known better than to expect the easy way to work.

With a grunt she yanked her sword from the pole and launched herself at the beast. She didn't bother trying to slice into its teflon-like skin. Instead she ducked, weaved, and batted tentacles aside with her sword, manoevring herself into the right position. The demon divided its attention between her and Angel, treating her like a pesky fly that needed to be squashed.

Twice she came within sword's length and made a stab at its red eyes, but each time she was thwarted by a tentacle. She was in constant motion, but even her enhanced reflexes weren't enough to completely protect her. Mucus and bruises decorated her body, souvenirs of her near misses. Several times she was forced to throw herself bodily out of the way when multiple tentacles closed in on her.

As she flipped over a lashing tentacle she wondered if she'd boobed and underestimated the demon. Sooner or later either it was going to get lucky, or she was going to run out. Then she glimpsed Spike, Connor and the woman converging on the demon. Forced to fend off more opponents, the beast allowed Buffy the opening she'd been waiting for. Taking advantage, she stepped off a tentacle, springboarding several feet to thrust her sword through the demon's right eye with a wet squish.

The demon convulsed. Its thrashing tentacles caught Buffy off guard and catapulted her through the air for the second time that day. Cursing, she twisted and managed to right herself, but she landed awkwardly and her left ankle gave way. She fell, and lay panting until a cool hand grasped her elbow and hauled her to her feet. She looked up into intense blue eyes.

"Spike."

Buffy had known he was alive, but she hadn't really believed it. Hadn't let herself believe it. She'd watched him go up in flames. But here he was standing before her, staring at her as if he was trying to read her mind.

"You're alive," she said. A familiar quirk of his lips made her relax. Same old Spike. "You know what I mean."

Spike's eyes glinted with amusement. "Always do." One eye was blackened and he was leaner than usual, but at least he was in one piece.

Over his shoulder she saw Angel, his face filled with mingled love and despair. It was a look familiar from moments when her life had been in danger and his fear of losing her had spilled over. But Angel wasn't looking at her, he was looking at Connor. She watched them, feeling hollow but unable to turn away.

"What're you doing here?" Angel said, grabbing Connor's shoulders. "I told you to get out of L.A."

"I couldn't just leave."

"Of course you could. Damn it, I wanted you safe."

"I am safe. Safe as a rat in a maze."

"Connor..." Frustration laced his voice.

"Angel, chill." Buffy limped over to them. "We wouldn't have found you without him."

Angel stared at her as if noticing her presence for the first time. "Buffy."

"Hey."

"Hey," he said, releasing Connor.

They gazed at each other. Like Spike, he was gaunt and dishevelled, his shirt ripped in places. Buffy wanted to touch him, reassure herself that he was real, but she was acutely aware of Spike and Connor watching so she settled for simply looking at him. For now, it was enough.

"Right then, that's enough of the mushy stuff," Spike said. The floorboards creaked under his boots as he strolled over. "What're you doing here?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows at his brusque tone. "We were looking for you...both of you...all of you." She eyed the dark haired woman standing apart looking out over the lawn. "Who's the scary smurf?"

"That's Illyria," Spike said. He nudged the dead demon with his foot. Satisfied, he leant against the concrete pillar. "She's a god...former. She talks rubbish sometimes...well, all the time really, but she's good in a fight."

Buffy frowned. "Wesley?"

"Gunn?" said Connor.

Angel shook his head, and the lines on his face deepened. "They didn't make it."

Buffy's throat swelled. She hadn't known Wesley that well and Gunn not at all, but they'd been fellow warriors battling evil and she felt their loss. A twinge of anger blazed through her; if Angel had asked for help maybe their deaths could've been prevented.

Spike's voice jolted her from her musings. "So are we just gonna stand here like Stonehenge or have you got a way out of this godforsaken city?"

"No...to the second one. But Willow's working on it. She'll figure it out."

Angel's gaze bounced between her and Connor as if he couldn't quite make the connection. "How'd the two of you hook up?"

She glanced at Connor. "Junior, you wanna field this one?"

He scowled at her, but nevertheless began recounting how he'd joined forces with other survivors to establish a base of operations at the school. Buffy spotted some folded chairs in the corner and hobbled over. She set up a couple so she could sit and prop up her foot. Lifting the leg of her jeans, she prodded her puffy ankle. It was tender but not sprained. With her healing ability she'd be fine in a few hours. Stretching her back, she listened to Connor end his tale with Buffy and Willow's arrival in L.A. and their subsequent attempts to locate Angel and his gang.

Angel was nodding. "We'd heard rumours of a human enclave in the city."

"You did?" Connor said, dumbfounded. "Why didn't you try to find us?"

"That," Angel said, pointing his chin at the demon's carcass, the hilt of Buffy's sword still jutting from its eye. "It's been tracking us all over L.A."

"Lemme guess. Spike owed it kittens," Buffy said, trying to scrape mucus out of her hair.

"Oy, it's not my fault we've been skulking round the city like rejects from a leper colony. It's his." Spike jerked his thumb at Angel. Buffy and Connor stared at him.

Angel shrugged. "Wolfram & Hart kept a fail-safe in the basement in case I...got out of control. Killing their representatives was pretty much a dead giveaway."

"So...that's what started all this," Buffy said, thinking out loud.

An awkward silence ensued. The two vampires looked at each other as if urging the other to speak.

Angel cleared his throat. "Yeah. After we took out the Circle of the Black Thorn, the senior partners sent an army of demons after us and...it just kinda snowballed from there..."

Buffy struggled to keep her temper under control. It was hard to fault Angel for taking on the big evil, but she wondered if he'd even considered the consequences of his actions.

Connor stared at Angel in awe. "You killed an army of demons?"

Angel squirmed. "Uh, not exactly--"

"We ran like cowards and hid like frightened children," Illyria said, whirling around.

Startled, Buffy twisted to face her; she'd forgotten the woman was in the room. Tilting her head, Illyria regarded Buffy with eerie pale eyes.

Spike smirked. "Yep, that about sums it up."

Connor's face fell. "Oh."

"But we killed a bunch of demons before we had to, to...make a strategic retreat," Angel said. "And I got a dragon!"

Illyria turned baleful eyes on Angel. "We should have died gloriously in battle. Instead we scrounge through human detritus for scraps to sustain us."

"She's quite the party pooper, isn't she?" said Buffy.

"You are a slayer," Illyria said, swivelling her head to face Buffy again. "You will free me from this cage."

Buffy stood, clinging to the back of the chair. "Well, since you asked so politely -- no. I'm a slayer, I don't do magic."

"So we nip back to this school?" Spike said, raising an eyebrow. "Bunk down till Red gets her mojo on?"

Buffy shook her head. "Not yet. For one thing, it's still sunny out, and for another, if I know Willow there's a good chance she's gonna swing by. Actually I'm kinda hoping she does cause I'm not sure you guys can even enter the school. It's protected by some major magic."

"It'll be okay," Connor said. "The spell repels evil, not demons."

"And you know this how?"

He flushed. "I just do."

His certainty sparked her curiosity. "How?" Her tone demanded an answer. If she was going to risk Angel and Spike's unlives she wanted details.

Connor swallowed. "We, er, had a few demons show up," he said, "asking for sanctuary."

"And?" Buffy had a sinking feeling this story didn't end with the demons being invited in for milk and cookies.

"Faith told them there wasn't any room, but some of them tried to come in anyway. People started panicking...a couple of the demons got shot and the rest ran away." Connor saw the disgust on her face. "Look, it wasn't Faith's fault. She told everyone the demons were harmless, but they didn't believe her." Angel rested a hand on Connor's shoulder.

"Well, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy," Spike said.

Buffy shuddered. She'd wondered why armed men were always outside the auditorium when a protection spell was in place and now she knew. She rubbed her eyes, feeling not angry but incredibly weary. Needing some alone time, she ignored her aching ankle and trudged across the terrace without meeting anyone's eye.

"I'm gonna go get the car," she muttered as she left. Buffy made her way down the grassy slope to the loop road. When she reached the car she got inside, thumped her head back and closed her eyes. Her head was a whirligig of emotion. She felt relieved and happy to have found Angel and Spike, saddened by the loss of Wesley and Gunn, and worried because their biggest hurdle -- the barrier around the city -- still remained.

Not to mention she desperately needed a hot shower. The demon's mucus and her sweat had combined to form some kind of mutant b.o. Ick.

She sighed and gulped down half a bottle of warm soda before starting the car and driving it up to the terrace. As the car passed from sunlight into shadow, she saw a tall figure waiting for her.

Angel.

Buffy parked the car a few feet from him and hopped out.

"Can we talk?" he said.

Nodding, she led him a short distance away to a sheltered bench and plopped down. Angel looked down at her. He seemed lost for words.

"So, you had an apocalypse and didn't invite me," Buffy said, aiming for casual but coming up short.

"Wasn't your apocalypse to fight."

"Hello, I'm the slayer. Fighting apocalypses is my raisin debt."

For a second Angel looked confused, then he smiled. "You mean raison d'etre."

"Yeah, that's what I said." Buffy folded her arms across her chest. "Look, you can make with the hoity toity accent all you like. Doesn't change what I am."

His gaze didn't waver. "A slayer."

"Exactly."

Angel shook his head. "I mean you're_ a_ slayer, not_ the_ slayer."

"So?"

"Saving the world isn't just_ your_ responsibility any more. Maybe it never was..."

Her throat closed up. She wished he'd punched her; it would've hurt less.

Angel dropped to the bench beside her. "Buffy, I don't mean to sound harsh..."

She didn't look at him.

"...seeing you here...it caught me off guard."

That got her attention. "You didn't think I'd come after you?"

He didn't answer and for a moment she could only stare at him. It was true she'd had reservations about his alliance with Wolfram & Hart -- although Willow had assured her that he was "managing", Buffy couldn't help worrying -- but if he'd sent out a 911 she would've been there. Just as she was here now.

"I...wasn't sure." Angel's eyes held a vulnerability that cooled her temper more than anything he could have said, and she got a glimpse of how alone he must have felt. Buffy laid a hand on his. His cool flesh felt solid and real.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted you to feel that way. I just...I didn't know what to think, and then I heard about Spike..."

"You could've trusted me."

"I wanted to. I mean, I do. If you'd called me, I would've come."

Angel shook his head, his shoulders slumping. "It doesn't matter. I lost Cordelia, I lost Fred, I wasn't going to lose you too."

She understood his fear, but her frustration remained. "So you didn't call for backup. How'd you expect to survive?"

He diverted his gaze, but not fast enough.

"Oh my God," she said, her scalp prickling. "You didn't." Angel looked at her, half guilty, half defiant. "Why?"

"They were winning. And I was in too deep."

"And you thought doing a Butch and Sundance was the way to go?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time. Go out in a blaze of glory, take our enemies with us. You know the drill. Maybe it didn't all go according to plan, but we destroyed the demons controlling L.A."

"Great. Congratulations." Buffy spread her arms to encompass the entire city. "But I'm betting_ this_ didn't figure into your grand plan."

Angel shifted his shoulders. "We knew the senior partners would retaliate. We didn't think they'd attack the city."

"Yeah, good call."

He glared at her. "You don't think I feel guilty enough. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like. We thought we were doing the right thing." Beneath his anger, she recognised his pain and her chest tightened in response.

"I'm sorry. You're right, I wasn't there." She took a deep breath. "I just wish...you know."

He softened. "I know."

They lapsed into a not quite companionable silence which grew heavier as the shadows lengthened. The sun had dipped behind the terrace, casting gloom over the grounds. Buffy had more questions, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answers. Instead, attempting to break the building tension, she chirped, "Well, at least I can cross finding you off my to-do list. All we need now is a way out of L.A."

He slanted a sceptical glance her way. "Well, sure. That and a gigantic plug for the dark magic leak."

"The _what_?"

Angel furrowed his brow. "You know, the dark magic pouring into this dimension...that you know nothing about," he said, finally catching on.

"Why the hell didn't you mention this before?"

"Because I only just found out." Looking defensive, Angel crossed his arms.

"Huh?" Now she was really getting confused.

"Connor just told us. Seems Willow was the one who clued him in."

"Willow told Connor." Buffy clenched her fists, quivering with fury. She couldn't believe Willow had confided in_ Connor_ of all people. That was it, the final straw. It was slayer wedgie time for Willow.

"I thought you knew."

She glared at Angel and he inched back along the bench.

"Obviously I was wrong," he said. She continued to glare and he tilted his head, presenting his left jaw. "Look, why don't you just clock me and we'll call it even."

Buffy let out a sound like a deflating balloon. "It's not you, it's Willow. She hasn't been sharing the need-to-know and it's really starting to annoy."

Angel frowned. "Willow's a smart woman. She probably has her reasons." At her scowl he added, "Not that I'm defending her."

"Willow_ is_ smart, smart enough to know you can't make battle plans without knowing all the facts. She should've shared."

All thoughts of Willow vanished as a frisson ran down Buffy's spine; something was coming. She felt it in the ground first, a trembling which grew to a rumble. It almost sounded like an engine but she didn't see any vehicles.

"What is that?" she said.

"I don't know." Angel stood and surveyed the grounds. "But it's getting closer."

Next to the car, the air began to ripple. Buffy shot to her feet as a massive truck materialised out of thin air, but her anxiety subsided when she spotted her friends in the cab. Her heart lifted and she ran to the truck, heedless of her sore ankle.

The door creaked open and Xander slid to the ground, then turned to help Willow down. As always, Buffy felt a twinge of guilt on seeing his eyepatch, but she set it aside when he gave her a huge grin.

"Hey, Buff."

"Xander!" She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. He groaned. Pulling back, she faced Willow, who seemed about ready to burst.

"We need to talk," they said in unison.

* * *

If all goes according to plan, there'll be two more chapters and an epilogue, so we're on the home stretch. Hang in there! 


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

"We need to talk."

Willow and Buffy stared at each other. Then Willow spotted Angel standing in the shade and dashed over to hug him.

"Angel! I knew you were alive." She punched his shoulder.

"Er, ow," he said, squinting.

"Oh, don't pretend that hurt." Willow stuck a hand on her hip. "Now see here, mister. What do you mean not calling us for help. You call that being a friend?"

Angel's forehead creased. "So I should've put _more_ people I cared about in danger?"

"Yes! That's what friends do."

He coughed and bowed his head. "I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to try to keep you out of harm's way. I see that now."

Willow saw his mouth twitch and bristled. "Angel, I'm serious."

"So I see," he said, smiling down at her. "But like I told Buffy, this wasn't your battle to fight." His gaze slid over her shoulder and all trace of humour vanished from his face.

"Maybe that should've been my call," Willow said.

His eyes shifted back to her. "Not in this town, Willow."

She was the first to look away.

After a moment he touched her shoulder. "I'm glad you came, though."

Willow raised her eyes. "I couldn't not come. Friends, remember?"

A sheepish expression lit his face. "Yeah."

Xander and Buffy strolled over. "...so then we stopped to let the engine cool down," Xander said, adjusting a backpack over his shoulder.

"You outsmarted a dragon," Buffy said. "That must've been a sight to see."

"Hey, man," Xander said, eyeing Angel's torn grimy clothes. "Looking good."

Angel grimaced, but said only, "Xander. Thanks for coming." His eyes lingered on Xander's eye patch. He seemed transfixed, only looking away when Xander tugged at the black plastic to reposition it. Realising everyone was watching him, Angel blurted, "Nice truck."

Willow snorted. "Wait till you see what's in the back." Xander glared at her. She flashed him a toothy grin; it was time for a little payback.

Buffy's face lit up. "Ooh, did you bring me a rocket launcher?" She took in the size of the truck. "Or a hundred?"

"Not exactly," Xander said, sidling away from her, "but it is a weapon."

"Uh huh," Buffy said. She frowned when he didn't elaborate. "Well, what is it?"

"Why don't you show her?" Willow chirped. "You should see it in person to get the full bloodcurdling impact."

Buffy slanted a sharp look her way but shrugged. "Okay." She strode to the back of the truck, keeping to the shady side, Angel in tow. Willow and Xander trailed them.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" hissed Xander.

"Course not. I just wanna see if slayers can die from a heart attack...like _I_ nearly did."

"Now you're just being petty."

"Your point being?"

When they got to the back Xander unlocked the padlock at each side of the rear gate and lowered it, letting it dangle to the ground. Buffy crowded in close, resting her hands on the metal platform. Willow moved up beside her, eager to get a gander herself.

A blunt missile-shaped object rested on the bed of the truck, its metal casing gleaming through charred holes in its tarpaulin cover. It was huge, roughly four metres long, and over a metre high. To Willow's magical senses it felt completely innocuous, as inert as plastic, but she shuddered at the thought of how much destruction this thing could unleash.

"Well, it's shiny," Buffy said.

Angel's jaw dropped. "Is that what I think it is?"

"If you're thinking big mushroom cloud, skin melting off, and a really bad hair day, then yes," Willow said.

"What?" Buffy looked at each of them in turn. "What is it?"

Willow glanced at Xander, but he was busy sniffing the air, doing his I'm-just-an-innocent-bystander routine. Sighing, she said, "It's a thermonuclear bomb."

Buffy's eyes glazed over. "Huh. Just when I thought my day was improving." She scrubbed her face. "Xander, when did you turn evil?"

"Hey, this isn't my so-insane-it-might-actually-work idea. It's all part of the government's demon disaster plan. Giles tried to talk them out of it, but they wouldn't budge."

"So they're destroying the entire city to get rid of the demons," Angel said. "Good to know they're not overreacting."

"They're crazy is what they are." Buffy slammed her fist against the side of the truck, denting the olive metal. "What about the poor suckers trapped in here like, oh, say...us?"

Xander shrugged. "Collateral damage is the technical term. Or in other words, we're screwed."

"Maybe not," Willow said.

"Will, you do know what the definition of screwed is, right?"

She grinned at him. "I think I can neutralise the energy from the bomb, but we're gonna need to evacuate the people first, in case I...miscalculate. And we need to do it before midnight tomorrow."

"Midnight?" Buffy glanced at Xander.

He swallowed. "That's when everything goes boom."

Buffy flailed her arms about like an Italian traffic cop. "Xander!"

A bleached blond head poked around the corner, making Willow jump.

"Keep it down, you lot," Spike said. "We don't wanna attract the riff raff." He nodded at Xander and Willow. "Chubs. Red."

Smiling, Willow waved. "Hey."

"Spike," said Xander, looking him up and down.

"He's got a point. We should take this inside," Angel said. He cast a glance at the copper-burnished trees and Willow realised the sun had set. The western sky was still washed with pale yellows and pinks but a rich cerulean blue was rapidly overtaking it. Night was falling.

"Inside?" Xander said. "Aren't we wagon-training it downtown?"

"With that thing?" Buffy said, glancing at the missile. "I'd sooner take a dive into the hellmouth than risk losing a nuke to a bunch of demons looking to party. We'll wait until dawn." She looked at Angel and Spike. "Or just before."

Spike craned his neck to peer inside the truck. "What's that, then?"

"Xander brought us a weapon of mass destruction," Buffy said offhandedly.

Spike went rigid for a second, then gave Xander a withering look. "Couldn't just say no, huh?"

"Sure I could. But they'd only have 'volunteered' some other chump to do it," Xander said. He paused to consider and raised a finger. "That didn't come out right."

The corner of Spike's mouth curved up. "You took the words right out of my mouth,_ chump_."

Xander's face tightened and Willow slipped her hand in his. "They would've sent it with or without Xander," she said. "At least this way we're not completely clueless."

"Yeah, instead of dying in blissful ignorance, we can sit here pissing our pants. Thanks, mate." Pivoting on his heel, Spike stalked off.

"He hasn't had a cigarette in a few days," Angel said with an apologetic shrug.

"And here I thought he was just being Spike," Xander said.

"Well, that too." Angel exchanged a rueful look with Xander.

Willow suppressed a giggle; aww, they were bonding. They backed off so Xander could lock up the truck. After a minute's discussion it was agreed that vampire and slayer senses should detect any demons who got too close.

Angel and Xander headed to the terrace and Willow started to follow when Buffy latched on to her wrist.

"Will, you wanna help me get some stuff out of the car?" she said in a loud voice.

"Uh sure."

As Angel and Xander disappeared into the pavilion, Buffy retrieved a pile of snacks and sodas from the back seat of the sedan and handed them to Willow, who stuffed them into her satchel. She couldn't help noticing that the once spotless car was looking a bit worse for wear. Glancing up, she was startled to find Buffy staring at her.

"I _know_," Buffy said. In the fading light it was hard to tell, but she looked...unhinged. Willow recalled Buffy's urgent desire to talk when she and Xander had arrived. Uh oh.

"That's nice," Willow offered, wearing her most innocent face.

"Willow!" Buffy said, stamping her foot. "How could you not tell me about the dark magic?"

"Buffy, I was gonna tell you, honest. I just needed to figure things out without you or Faith breathing down my neck. No offence, but sometimes you get a little overexcited...as, for example, right now."

"You should've told me. This isn't the time to go Lone Wolf McQuade on us."

"That's not what I'm..." Willow stopped and took a calming breath. "I'm just trying to do what's best for everyone."

"By keeping secrets? By trying to handle something this big on your own?"

"It's not like I had a choice! Buffy, the only other witches we've seen here are in a coma and we're cut off from the rest of the world." Willow inhaled a shaky breath. "Whether I like it or not, I_ am_ on my own."

Buffy's gaze was steady, yet sympathetic. "Maybe you're the only one who can work the mojo, but that doesn't mean you're alone."

Under Buffy's scrutiny, Willow managed a tremulous smile. She didn't doubt Buffy's sincerity, but as strong as she was, Buffy couldn't fight magic. Willow knew that in the end she'd have to go it alone, but she couldn't bring herself to tell Buffy that.

She nodded. "Okay, Buffy."

Buffy's tense face relaxed. "We're gonna get through this, Will. Oh sure, we'll look back in our golden years and wonder how we ever survived. But we_ will_ survive."

"How come you're so chipper all of a sudden?"

"I have no idea," Buffy said, grinning. "Maybe it's cause my best buds are with me. When have I ever gone wrong with you two on my side?"

Willow squinted at her. "Okay, where are you hiding the happy pills?"

"Can't I be naturally happy?"

"Sure. So how'd things go with you and Angel?" Willow said pointedly, peeved by Buffy's over inflated optimism.

Buffy glanced at the terrace and her grin turned into a grimace. "I basically accused him of starting the apocalypse."

Willow winced. "I think I would've just gone with 'Hi'."

"Yeah." Buffy blew out an audible breath. "Hindsight: annoyingly unhelpful."

"But you two are okay, right?"

"I guess. We're still at that awkward 'Hey, thought you might've gone to the dark side' phase."

Willow nodded, feeling a jolt of sympathy for Angel; she'd had some experience being on the receiving end of that phase. "And Spike?"

"We're stuck at the 'Hey, didn't expect you to come back from the dead' phase."

"Oh yeah, that's a fun one," Willow said, with a pinch too much enthusiasm. At Buffy's incredulous look, she added, "Well, it is if you like the person. Do you...like Spike?"

"Sure." Buffy nibbled her lower lip. "It's just that things kinda got simple when he died, you know? Now they're all complicated and soapie-like again."

"Our lives haven't been simple for a while now, Buffy."

"I guess not. But it was fun pretending for a while." Buffy linked her arm with Willow's and strolled towards the pavilion. "We should get in there before Xander eats all those tasty army rations."

"He has Hershey bars."

"He does?"

Buffy's pace sped up and Willow was almost yanked off her feet. By now it was pitch dark, with the moon yet to rise. Willow hastily dug out her flashlight so as not to fall flat on her face. The beam was weak and she realised the batteries were running low.

As they reached the terrace a figure loomed out of the shadows -- a woman dressed in form-fitting leather. Willow yelped and shone the flashlight up to the woman's face; her pupils shrank in the light. It took Willow a moment to recognise her.

"Fred? You've...changed."

Fred tilted her head. "You reek of--"

"I don't reek!" Self-conscious, Willow took a sniff of her armpit. Not exactly lavender fresh, but she didn't smell that bad. She swished an indignant finger at Fred's hair and face. "At least I didn't go crazy with the body paint. What's up with that?"

Fred's eyes narrowed. "You reek of power."

Out of thin air it seemed, Angel appeared at her side. "Willow, this isn't Fred."

"Oh." Willow studied the woman anew. The resemblance was uncanny; it couldn't be a coincidence. "Is it her evil twin?"

"You could say that," said Spike, his deep voice startling her from the murky interior. Angel glared into the dark.

"No," Angel said. "Fred died when...Illyria possessed her body."

"Fred _died_." Willow stared at Angel in shock. "Why didn't you..." A stray memory surfaced. She narrowed her eyes. "This is why you tried to contact me a couple months ago," she said with certainty.

He hesitated. "Yeah."

"But when I called you back, you said everything was okay."

Angel's gaze didn't waver. "It was too late."

"You said everything was okay." Willow's voice trembled with accusation. She sensed Buffy make a move towards her and warned her off with a look.

"Fred was gone, Willow," Angel said. "And I didn't want you feeling guilty about something you had no control over. You didn't deserve it." His eyes flashed yellow.

Willow remembered quizzing Giles about Angel's SOS, but he'd had no details to give her. Couldn't or wouldn't, she wondered.

"God...Fred."

* * *

Ice blue eyes stared back at her without a hint of the warm, bubbly woman Willow had known.

Wounds had been dressed, snacks had been shared, and the demon carcass catapulted into the bushes, though somehow its foul odour still lingered. Impossibly, it seemed as if the demon was sitting right next to her. Willow leaned over and took a surreptitious sniff at Buffy. Eww. As casually as possible, she shuffled her chair away from the slayer.

They'd taken the liberty of setting up four of the cafe-style tables, sticking candles on their wooden tops. Willow shared one with Buffy, only half listening as the others confabbed, or in Xander and Spike's case, bickered. Her attention had drifted soon after learning of Wesley and Gunn's fate. She couldn't help but wonder if they'd suffered, if Fred had suffered, and her fertile imagination supplied plenty of technicolour images to go with those thoughts.

Sudden silence dragged her out of her reverie. Willow realised everyone was staring at her and she wiped her mouth, wondering whether she'd been a bit too enthusiastic with the candy bars. They continued to stare. She swallowed.

"What's up, guys?"

"You were going to tell us how you're gonna save our butts," Connor said with a confident grin. His faith in her boosted her spirits and she smiled at him. She doubted the others would be so trusting. Of course, aside from Illyria, they all knew her better.

"Right," Willow said, her tone as casual as if she was talking about taking out the trash. "Soooo...I'm going to open a portal to another dimension, a safe dimension. Everyone leaves 'cept me, then I wait for the bomb to detonate and transmute the energy."

All that could be heard was muted cricket song.

Spike stirred. "Is there a plan B?"

"Guys, I can do this."

Xander scooched his chair over from the next table. "Will, you need to hop back on the reality train," he said, his tone soothing.

She smacked him away when he tried to put his arm around her. "Stop treating me like a mental patient."

"Stop talking like you are one," Spike drawled from the other side of Xander. "You're a powerful witch, luv, no doubt about it, but you're not fast enough to beat a nuclear blast. It'll be over before you have time to draw breath."

"I've already thought of that," Willow said, glad someone had raised an objection she could shoot down. "I'm going to cast a time dilation spell on the nuke." When no one else spoke, she brightened. Looked like she'd won the battle. "So--"

"I'm hearing an awful lot of magic talk here," Xander said. "Are you sure you can pull it off?"

Buffy jerked upright, nose twitching like a bloodhound. "What do you mean?"

"Xander--" Willow tried to head him off, but he talked right over her.

"Well, look at her -- the pasty face, the raccoon eyes, the uncanny resemblance to Marilyn Manson -- she's been using up her own power, and the energiser bunny she ain't."

"Tattletale," Willow grumped, annoyed as much by his unflattering portrait as by his loose mouth.

"And proud of it," he said, tossing a handful of roasted peanuts into his mouth.

She sneaked a glance at Buffy.

"Willow..." Buffy said, shaking her head like a disappointed parent.

"It's not an issue, Buffy. A few hour's sleep plus a boatload of sugary snacks and I'll have enough juice to do this. Transmutation is mostly a matter of will power anyway."

"What about the portal?" Angel said. "Creating a doorway to another world would drain most witches."

"I'm not most witches," Willow said, sharper than she'd intended. "Look, I'm not saying it'll be easy, but I know I can do it."

After a moment's thought Buffy shook her head. "It's too risky. Opening the portal gets a yay vote, but we're not leaving you behind."

A rush of blood heated Willow's face. "Buffy, this isn't your choice to make."

"Look, if the idiots in charge want to destroy L.A., I say we get out of the way and let them."

Willow looked round, hoping for some support from the others. Xander wouldn't meet her gaze, while Spike offered a noncommittal shrug. Connor was frowning at Buffy and Angel looked torn. Illyria seemed to be waiting for something.

"Have you forgotten about the dark magic?" Willow said.

"What about it?" Buffy said, wearing a blank look that made Willow grit her teeth.

"I have to stop it."

"Later, when we--"

"No. It has to be now, while it's still contained."

"It'll still be contained later."

Willow gave Xander a pointed look. He obliged with a grudging, "No it won't. Once the shield absorbs the radiation from the blast, it's coming down so the earth-movers can get in."

Buffy sighed. "Demon disaster plan?"

"Yep," he said. "As half-baked ideas go, they really thought this one through."

At the table where she sat alone, Illyria stood. Her chair scraped across the floor, drawing all eyes to her. "The witch speaks the truth. The gate must be shut, unless you wish the earth to return to what it was."

Willow's mouth fell open. Illyria was the last person she'd expected to come to her aid, and it was obvious from her words that she understood the danger, more so than the others.

"What're you babbling about?" Spike said.

Illyria favoured him with a disdainful stare. "Before the balance shifted to the light, before the demons were forced to leave this world."

"You mean..." Angel said, with a dawning look of horror.

"Yes. Demons banished eons ago will return to walk the earth, humans will be reduced to slaves, and..." her eyes gleamed, "the old ones will awaken."

The others turned back to Willow, who nodded. "It's true. It won't happen overnight, but the balance will be overturned, and once it gathers enough momentum there'll be no stopping it. The bud needs to be nipped, people."

No one spoke for a minute. Instead the room zinged with silent communication; questioning looks, nods, head shakes and shrugs were exchanged. Finally Buffy said, "Okay, then we'll stay with you. Back you up."

"No!" Willow said. "I mean, there could be radiation leakage and I can't protect you."

"Some of us can't get any deader," Spike pointed out.

"I said no, Spike." She squared her shoulders. "I have to focus all my energy on the nuke and I can't do that if I'm worrying about you guys."

"Will, are you sure this is the only way?" Xander said.

She saw the worry in his eye and her heart clenched. She reached out and squeezed his hand. "It'll be okay," she said. "I promise."

* * *

"My dear Buffy and Willow,

Forgive me for not being there in person. If you're reading this letter, then I have failed, and for that I am truly sorry. No doubt Xander has informed you of the government's foolhardy plan to deal with this crisis.

I am assembling as many slayers as possible in the hope that the Pentagon will see reason and cancel the nuclear detonation. To that end I will continue to badger the few who will listen. I must admit, however, that I have my doubts. Just between you and me, this country is run by pillocks!

I believe your best hope is to use a portal to escape the city. You won't be able to cross the barrier to the outside world, but you should be able to travel to another dimension. Willow, during your travels through the astral planes I'm hoping you found a world safe enough for a brief visit.

You are two of the most capable young women I know and I have the greatest faith in your judgement and abilities.

Till we meet again,

Giles

* * *

Buffy flicked her eyes at the rear view mirror every few seconds, checking that the truck was still behind them. Though they saw only the occasional lone demon, having a nuclear bomb in the mix had raised her anxiety to a whole new level of paranoia. The streets were dark and quiet, without a hint that dawn was less than an hour away. They travelled without headlights, allowing the setting moon to light their way.

As she drove Buffy mulled over Giles's letter. She wished she could talk to him. She didn't know if she was doing the right thing in letting Willow go ahead with this harebrained scheme.

In the passenger seat Willow turned to the vampires in the back. "Are you sure you can't think of anyone else?"

"No one else closely connected to Wolfram & Hart_ and_ powerful enough to perform this kind of ritual." Angel's tone bristled with impatience. Buffy suppressed a smile; Willow had been interrogating him for the last hour.

Spike growled. "How about you lay off Peaches here before he spontaneously combusts and takes me with him?"

"Okay, okay." Pouting, Willow twisted back to the front and crossed her arms. "I just wanna be sure. If I'm gonna close down the conduit it would help to know where it is. I'm just saying."

"Can't you use your mojo and follow the breadcrumbs?" Spike said.

Willow shook her head. "The conduit's been open too long. The whole city's chock full of dark magicky badness." She peeked over her shoulder. "Which is why I--"

"Willow," Angel said through gritted teeth. "Trust me, it's Vail."

After a pause, Willow said brightly, "Okay, then." She settled back in her seat and stared out the window.

Wow, Angel was certainly Mr Grouchy Pants this morning. Buffy wondered if he'd slept as badly as she had. What with the hard wooden floor, the nightmares of Willow melting like cheap plastic, and Xander's snoring, she'd gotten maybe three hours of shuteye.

An uncomfortable silence filled the car, broken only by Angel's terse directions as they headed to Hollywood.

Ten minutes later Buffy turned right onto Santa Monica Boulevard. Angel poked his head between the front seats.

"Keep going...a little further...okay, make a left here." A little further on, Angel pointed out a mansion at the end of a gravel driveway. "That's it."

Buffy pulled over in front of the iron gates. For a second no one moved, then everyone piled out of the sedan at the same time. Behind the car, Xander, Connor and Illyria hopped out of the truck, but stayed close by; their job was to guard the nuke.

Spike was already swinging open the side gate. Buffy noticed he'd brought the blankets with him and thought it strange until she saw him glance to the east where the sky was beginning to grow lighter.

She slipped through the gate, her breath misting in the crisp and -- unusually for L.A. -- clean air. As she led the others up the driveway Buffy became aware of an odd fluttering sensation in her belly. It felt similar to her usual pre-battle jitters, but there was a difference she couldn't quite pinpoint. The crunch of their footsteps grated on her nerves. She watched the stone mansion grow larger as they drew closer. According to Angel, this was the most likely site of the dark magic leak.

It wasn't until they reached the front door that it hit her; this wasn't something she could fight. She was raring to go, her muscles and nerves humming despite the lack of sleep, but magic wasn't something she could actually lay her hands on. A strong sense of dread washed over her.

With more effort than was required, Buffy slammed her foot into the door. The lock splintered and the door flew open, revealing a gaping black interior.

Spike brushed past her, flicking open his lighter. She entered after him and stood just inside the door with Willow and Angel, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Her night vision was better than most, but even she had trouble in the dark. All she could see was Spike's lighter bobbing about the room.

The light multiplied and she realised he was lighting candelabras in each corner. As the shadows receded Buffy realised they were in the foyer. An open archway lay straight ahead, with doors to the left and right. She felt Willow tense and remembered that this was where Wesley had died. Though Illyria said she'd taken care of his body, Buffy automatically scanned every inch of the foyer, only relaxing when it was clear there were no human bodies. A short wizened corpse with (eww!) a whole chunk of its face missing lay in the centre of the room near a rusty stain on the floor. Buffy guessed that the corpse used to be Cyvus Vail.

Angel crossed the marble floor, stopping to gaze down at the corpse. After exchanging a glance with Willow, who urged her forward with a shooing motion, Buffy went over to Angel. She was careful to avoid the rusty patch; she thought it might be dried blood -- human blood.

Angel's eyes were hooded, his face contorted with raw hatred. She hesitated, then curled her fingers around his arm.

"You okay?" she said.

For a second she thought he hadn't heard her, then his gaze shifted. "Yeah, I just...I wish I'd been the one to put the crater in his face."

She said nothing, merely squeezed his arm in sympathy. He covered her hand with his.

"The day's not getting any younger, people," Spike said.

Buffy looked over; he was holding a candelabra, staring anywhere but at her and Angel. She reclaimed her hand and glanced at Willow. The redhead was frowning, her eyes closed.

"Will?"

Willow's eyes popped open. "Basement," she muttered. "Why does the bad stuff always have to be in the basement?"

"I think it's a union thing," Buffy said. "Spike, you wanna take point?"

"Right. I guess I'm the expendable one," he said, stalking to the open archway.

Buffy marched right up to him and snatched the candelabra out of his hand. "All right, ya big baby, I'll do it." He grabbed the silver base and tried to take it back. She glared. He glared back. And pretty soon they had their feet braced and were engaged in an all out tug of war, spattering the floor and themselves with liquid candle wax.

"Er, guys?" Willow said. They ignored her.

"Guys!"

Buffy and Spike froze. Together they turned their heads to find Willow and Angel watching with raised eyebrows.

"Do you guys need a time out?" Willow said.

Warmth bathed Buffy's cheeks. "Sorry," she said.

"Yeah," Spike mumbled.

Angel cleared his throat and extended the candelabra he was holding. "You can have this one," he said gingerly, as if talking to someone who might bite his hand.

Buffy's face burned. "Uh, that's okay. Why don't you hang onto it?"

After an awkward moment Spike spun on his heel and headed deeper into the mansion. Buffy tailed him down the hall, Willow's hand clutching the back of her shirt, and Angel at the rear. They passed by a dining room, poking their heads in just long enough to glimpse the opulent burgundy and gold furnishings. Further on they found themselves in a huge modern kitchen, which surprised Buffy. She'd always assumed most demons didn't cook their food.

Windows above the sink looked out onto the grounds, revealing a pale pre-dawn sky. They checked all the doors and found one which opened onto stairs going down. Buffy drew her sword and nodded at Spike. One by one, they tramped down the steps into the chilly cellar. Buffy felt goosebumps ripple across her bare arms. It smelled like a cemetery on a rainy night.

The area nearest the bottom step was piled high with old furniture and garbage bags. Spike took a few paces, lifting the candelabra and throwing the light farther. Yet it didn't reach the far end of the basement, which seemed to stretch the entire length of the house.

Staying close, they moved down to the other end where they found a row of empty cells lining the brick wall. Willow roamed in and out of the cells, looking lost.

"It's not here...but it is here," she said as if talking to herself.

Buffy exchanged looks with Angel and Spike, the latter tapping his temple in a suggestive manner. Though she'd wondered the same thing, she scowled at him. It didn't help that Willow continued to wander about as if she was sleepwalking. Buffy planted herself in Willow's path.

"Will, what's not here?"

Willow frowned. "The spell. But it is here. I can feel it."

Buffy glanced round. "I don't see anything."

Spike made a rude noise. "Just a thought, but maybe a ritual as powerful as this one wouldn't be lying out in the open where any wandering do-gooder could trip over it." The other three stared at him. "What? I used to be an evil mastermind, you know."

"Yeah, but you sucked at it," Angel said.

"Hey, I'll have you know--"

"No, Spike's right," Willow said, cutting him off in mid-rant. She rotated in place, then made a beeline for the middle cell -- coincidentally the only one with a closed door. Willow rattled the bars but it was locked. "Uh, a little help here?"

Sheathing her sword, Buffy joined Willow at the cell. She ushered Willow aside before gripping the bar closest to the lock and bracing her other hand against the thick dividing wall. Buffy jiggled the door first, testing its strength. With one explosive exhalation she _pulled_ and the door came loose amidst the screech of tearing steel.

Willow grinned. "Handier than a locksmith." She tried to dart inside the cell, but Buffy held her back.

"Uh uh, Will. It could be booby trapped." Buffy reached for her sword.

Willow grabbed her wrist. "If it is, it'll be a magic booby."

Buffy hesitated, but she had to concede Willow was better equipped to deal with a magical threat. She nodded and allowed Willow to pass.

Willow went directly to the back of the cell. She stood immobile for several seconds before doing something that sent a shockwave through Buffy; she plunged her head into the wall. From Buffy's perspective it looked like Willow's headless body was propped against the bricks.

"Will!" Buffy rushed forward, ready to yank Willow back.

"I'm fine," said Willow, her voice alarmingly disembodied. "It's just an illusion. There's another room here." Her shoulders twisted as though she was looking over her shoulder. "Angel, can you bring the light closer?"

"Yeah, sure." Angel came into the cell and stopped next to Buffy. They exchanged bemused looks.

"Thanks." Willow's body disappeared into the wall.

Buffy didn't wait for an invitation; she charged after Willow. As she passed through the wall she felt her skin tingle, and then she was in a room much like the cellar she'd just left, only a quarter the size. Angel and Spike emerged beside her.

Willow stood at the edge of a black circle painted on the ground. It was about three metres across, filled with red and black symbols and containing two smaller circles which overlapped. Candle stubs dotted the circumference of the outer circle.

"This is it," Willow said.

"That's it?" Buffy scanned the room. She'd had vague visions of an erupting volcano of roiling energy. "I don't see any magic."

"Well, no, you wouldn't," Willow said. "The ritual was just the trigger. The magic itself is sort of in the netherworld."

"Right, I knew that," Buffy said, nodding. Spike snorted and she glared at him.

Oblivious, Willow walked around the circle, all her brain power focused downward.

"So if the magic's not here, what're we doing?" Spike said in a bored tone.

Willow looked up, eyes wide. "This is where it's linked to our world. This is its weak spot."

"Smashing." Spike dropped the blankets. "You lot stay here and play save the world, I'm gonna go ransack the place." He strode off.

"Spike, I don't think it's a good idea to split--" Buffy broke off as she realised he was already back in the other cellar. Torn, she glanced at Willow, who was staring after Spike, and Angel, who nodded. She gave him a brief smile and chased after Spike, pursuing him up the stairs and back into the kitchen.

Buffy paused, surprised by how much lighter it was outside. One of the doors thumped against the jamb, a door they hadn't gone through. She ran to it and flung it open. Spike was retreating down the corridor, candelabra held aloft.

"Spike, wait!" She sprinted through the hall and up another flight of stairs. By the time she caught up to him in one of the bedrooms her dander was well and truly up. He plonked the candelabra down on the dressing table and faced her with his arms crossed.

"What's wrong with you?" she snapped. "Not enough excitement so you decided to play hide and seek?"

Spike glared at her. "Who'd you come here for, him or me?"

Buffy stared. "You can't be serious. You wanna do this now?"

"It's as good a time as any. For all we know, Red could end up sending us to Pluto. You'd freeze to death in about ten seconds." His mouth twisted. "And you'll probably want to spend those ten seconds with Angel."

"Stop it."

"Just tell me." Spike's eyes blazed with reflected flame.

Buffy looked at him. His face was all hard angles, but she sensed an underlying desperation. She kept her expression from betraying her feelings; he wouldn't thank her for her pity.

"Spike, you're asking for an answer I don't have," she said, her voice soft but emphatic.

"Bollocks. You just don't want to tell me."

She groaned. "I care about Angel. I care about you. Why can't we just leave it at that?"

Spike took a step closer and opened his mouth, gazing at her. He hesitated, then shut his mouth and whirled away. "Women," he muttered.

Perching on the dressing table, Buffy watched him stalk to the closet opposite the bed and start rummaging through it. He tossed various bits of clothing on the rug: dresses, robes, caftans, all in bright jewel tones.

"The blue one would match your eyes," she said.

He glared at her. After another half minute of searching he pulled out a long blood red cloak. "Now that's more like it."

"Is that the only one?" she said, perking up.

"What am I, his nanny? He can get his own damn cloak."

"Spike."

He glanced at her and rolled his eyes. "Oh, all right." He went back to rifling through the closet, eventually unearthing a charcoal grey cloak which he tossed at her.

She caught it one-handed and bundled it under her arm. "Thanks."

Spike gazed at her for a long moment, and nodded. He moved to the door.

"I did miss you," Buffy said, stopping him in his tracks.

He pivoted slowly. "Yeah, me too."

A chill travelled down her spine. "You mean, you were...conscious where you were?"

"No, I meant...when I came back."

"Oh." She remembered the pain and disorientation of her own resurrection. "That must have been weird."

A sardonic smile. "You oughta know."

A minute passed in silence. Neither made a move to leave. Buffy felt the tension build and wanted to say something, but she felt muzzled by her indecision. She didn't want to give him false hope, but neither did she want to crush him.

"Would it have made a difference?" he said out of the blue. "If I'd come for you?"

Buffy smiled in spite of herself. "Like if you'd boarded a private plane, flown to Rome, and spent the night blundering around the city looking for me -- that kind of thing?"

"Er, yeah. Something like that," Spike said, averting his gaze.

She sobered. "No."

He looked at her and nodded, once. She saw resignation creep into his expression. Buffy knew he wanted more, but right now all she could think about was making sure everyone got out of L.A. alive. The rest would have to wait. Without another word, Spike left the room.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Then she picked up the candelabra and followed him.

* * *

Willow knelt outside the circle, studying the symbols. They were a mishmash of ancient languages, everything from Sumerian to Sanskrit, many of which she couldn't even identify. She was amazed the ritual had worked.

"See anything you recognise?" Angel said.

"Oh yeah. See these," she pointed to the intricate runes inscribed at the very heart of the circle, where the two smaller circles overlapped, "Vail used them to tie his life to the ritual. Diabolical, but smart."

"So when Illyria killed him..."

"Open sesame."

"Damn."

Angel's shadow bobbed as he crouched beside her, resting the candelabra on the concrete floor. "You know, you were kinda fuzzy with the details last night."

"I was?" Hunching her shoulders, Willow pretended to examine the runes.

"Yes. One might say deliberately so."

"Well, _one_ would be wrong."

Angel was silent for half a minute. "Willow, I don't like this."

Willow pursed her mouth. She was going to have to get a new face; her innocent look wasn't fooling anyone any more. "Okay, so I'm a little fuzzy on the details myself," she said. "It's not like there are any standard spells for sealing a magical interdimensional breach brought about by an evil warlock."

Angel scratched his chin. "Not to nitpick, but it sounds like you don't know what the hell you're doing."

Willow glared. "You know, for a stealthy guy you've got an awfully loud voice. Pipe down, will ya?" She peered into the main cellar, making sure Buffy wasn't lurking anywhere. "I already told you, I'm going to use the nuke to seal the breach."

Angel thought for a minute. "You're going to transmute the nuclear energy into white magic."

"That's the plan."

He stared at her. "You have no idea if this is gonna work, do you?"

"Not a one." Her legs began to cramp and she stood. Angel rose with her.

"So maybe it's not worth risking your life?"

"I thought we already decided that it was." She laid a hand on his sleeve to forestall his protest. "Angel, if there's even the tiniest chance that it'll work then I have to give it a shot. You know, the needs of the many, yada, yada."

"What?"

She sighed. "Never mind."

"It's not just the spell I'm worried about," he said. "Performing it _here_, at midnight? That's like demon rush hour and you're not exactly going to blend into the woodwork."

"I know." She tried not to let her uneasiness show. "I thought maybe a glamour..."

"More magic," he said, eyeing her with scepticism.

"It's what I do," she said, starting to get annoyed at his persistence.

Angel blinked, and gazed into the distance as though experiencing a revelation. From below, the candlelight bathed his face in a golden glow. "Right, it's what you do," he said slowly. An enigmatic smile spread across his face.

"Angel? You okay?" Willow said, flapping her hand in front of his eyes.

He blinked again. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You're not...hungry, are you?"

"No, we managed to catch several--" he caught her moue of distaste, "rodents and marsupials at the zoo."

"Rodents...you mean like rats?" She was okay with the rat eating; not that she wanted to try it herself.

"Rats, mice, squirrels."

"And the marsupials?"

"Possums, mostly."

"Oh." Willow grimaced.

"They were ugly possums," he offered.

She squinted at him.

"Okay, they were cute as hell," Angel said. "But it was either that or the porcupines. And we couldn't afford to be picky -- most of the animals were already dead by the time we got there."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be all Judge Willow. I like possums...but I like you guys more."

Angel smiled. "It's okay. Just don't say anything to Spike. He's still complaining about having to eat a rat."

* * *

When they arrived at the school Xander positioned the truck a few metres in front of the auditorium, leaving a gap so Buffy could park the car in its shade. That way, Angel and Spike would only be exposed to the sun for the few seconds it took to run up the steps.

Willow got out of the car, watching people gather at the back of the truck. Xander and Connor hurriedly insinuated their way between the civilians and the truck, Connor fending off shouted questions. They had strict instructions to keep the nuclear bomb on the QT, to avoid possible stoning by an insane mob. After a couple minutes Willow relaxed; the boys seemed to be holding their own against the curious crowd.

"Angel!"

Willow swivelled her head. Faith was loping down the steps, a huge grin on her face. She greeted both vampires with warm handslaps and affectionate shoves before slapping Buffy on the back.

"You did it, B. You found 'em."

"I had help," Buffy muttered, looking uncomfortable with Faith's unequivocal praise.

"Oh, sure." Faith's eyes found Willow. "Nice--"

"Faith, we need to talk," Buffy said, using what Willow called her Chief Slayer voice.

Faith cocked an eyebrow. "Okaaay. My office?"

Buffy replied with a curt nod and Faith led the way back into the auditorium, followed by Buffy and the cloaked vampires.

Left alone between car and truck, Willow felt bereft. She was debating what to do first when the spot between her shoulder blades began to prickle. Whirling, she found Illyria just a few paces away looking like Fred -- human Fred, alive and well Fred. All the better to blend in with the lowly humans, Willow thought. Her throat swelled.

"What?" she said.

"You will require my assistance with the portal," Illyria said.

Said, not asked, Willow noted. She responded accordingly. "Nuh uh!"

Illyria advanced on her. "How many portals have you birthed?"

Willow bit her lip. "This'll be my first. But I've studied the spell, I understand the theory."

"It takes more than learning words and rituals. Forcing a doorway where it doesn't belong requires strength of mind and purity of purpose."

"I'll manage, thanks."

"And if I were Winifred Burkle, would you still refuse me?" Her brown eyes were hypnotic. For a split second it seemed as if Fred were peering out through those eyes.

Willow shook her head, not in answer but in denial. She _had_ been counting on Fred's help. But Fred was gone. Anger swept over her, hot and demanding. "Why do you care? Why so eager to help?"

"To help you is to help myself." Illyria's eyes flickered. "And it is what he would have wanted."

"He?"

"Wesley."

She offered no further explanation, leaving Willow staring at her in confusion. This was the first indication she'd had that Illyria possessed even a smidgen of human feeling. Illyria began to turn away.

"Wait," Willow said. "I...guess I could use your advice." Feeling as if she was betraying Fred's memory, she felt compelled to add, "But I still don't like you."

"Your emotions are irrelevant. If you do not control them, they will be your downfall."

"Thanks for the safety tip," Willow said with a grimace. "Okay, there's something I need to do first so why don't you wait for me over there." She waggled a finger at the shady spot under the trees beside the auditorium. "It's nice and quiet and if we're real lucky no one will bother you."

Not waiting for an answer, Willow circled the car and trotted up the steps. She trawled the auditorium, noting with mild surprise that Angel and Spike were in the main hall instead of closeted with the slayers. After ten minutes she found her quarry in a corner of the foyer, amidst a forest of cardboard boxes, squabbling with her sister over a battered Dr Seuss book.

"Melissa, hey."

"Hi Willow," the girls chorused, all of a sudden looking like angels, albeit dirt-smudged angels.

"Where've you been?" Abby said, wrapping skinny arms around Willow's leg.

Willow gently disentangled herself and hunkered down. "I had to go help a friend." She took Melissa's small hand in hers. "Now I need to ask for your help."

"What kind of help?" said Melissa, chewing her fingernail.

"Come with me." Willow led the girls to the window and knelt down again. "You see that man with the dark hair and the eye patch?"

"The pirate man?" Abby said.

Willow chuckled. "That's right, the pirate man. Now in a little while, you and your mom and all the other people will be going to a fairytale land. It's a beautiful place with no monsters and lots of grass and trees where you can play."

"And fairies?" Melissa's face lit up.

"Sort of," Willow said, not sure how to describe the magical beings who inhabited that particular world. "When you get there, and not before, I want you to give this to the pirate man." She presented an envelope containing several letters she'd scribbled last night. "Can you do that for me?"

Melissa frowned. "Can't _you_ give it to him?"

Damn. She hadn't expected logic from a six-year-old. "I could," Willow said, thinking quickly. "But I want it to be a surprise, and it won't be a surprise if I give it to him. See?" She held her breath.

"Oh-kay," Melissa said, still looking confused. But she took the envelope, folded it twice, and tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans.

"Thanks, sweetie."

Willow hugged both the girls, breathing in their sweet warmth. She watched them run off before moving to the door. But just as she set foot outside the foyer, a cry came from the main chamber.

"Vampires! They're vampires!"

Oh, poop.

* * *

Buffy wasted no time giving Faith the short version of the previous day's events. Faith listened without interrupting, not turning a hair until Buffy dropped the bombshell, so to speak. Faith's mouth fell open and stayed open until Buffy stopped talking.

After a moment's silence Faith whistled. "Holy... You really think Will can pull off this Hail Mary?"

Buffy shrugged. "So she says. I trust her, but..."

"What?"

"I'm pretty sure no one's ever gone up against a nuke and won."

The door to the utility closet flew open and Rocky burst in. "You guys need to get out here!" Buffy heard panicked voices echoing in the auditorium. Glancing at Faith, she rushed past Rocky.

At first all she saw was chaos. Everyone seemed to be either converging on a spot at the far end or scrambling to get away from there. Buffy vaulted onto the stage and surveyed the auditorium. She sucked in a sharp breath when she glimpsed Angel and Spike back to back at the centre of the melee. They were surrounded by people waving crosses, but so far the mob was keeping its distance.

She dropped down next to Faith. "Cat's out of the bag," Buffy said before taking off down the hall. Faith was right beside her. They dodged fleeing bodies, but were forced to slow down as they reached the knot of people.

"Let me handle this," Faith yelled.

"Be my guest," Buffy yelled back. She didn't think Faith was going to be able to fast talk her way out of this one, but maybe she could distract folks long enough for Buffy to get the trouble twins out of there.

Deflecting stray blows, Buffy squeezed through the crowd, shoving people out of the way whenever necessary. When she reached Angel and Spike, they gave her such identical looks of relief she nearly snickered. Faith popped out of the crowd and starting yelling, but it was like shouting into a thunderstorm. No one was listening; everyone was focused on the vampires. Buffy's stomach somersaulted as she spotted crossbows and stakes being passed through the crowd.

In the end, Buffy and Faith were forced to shield Angel and Spike with their own bodies. The slayers circled the vampires, thrusting away the crosses and groping hands, and constantly shifting to make sure no one had a clear shot. Buffy felt as if she were performing a rain dance. They tried to edge towards the exit, but were blocked by the unmoving wall of people. Her anxiety rose. It was only a matter of time before someone decided to go_ through_ her and Faith. As if the thought had triggered it, the mob surged closer...

A brilliant white flash lit up the auditorium. Soundless, it lasted a split second, just long enough to temporarily blind everyone. Buffy blinked furiously, extending her arms to prevent anyone from getting past her. When her vision returned she saw familiar red hair at the fringe of the crowd. Bouncing on her toes, Willow gave Buffy the thumbs up.

Faith took advantage of the momentary lull, yelling, "There's a nuclear bomb parked in front of the building." In an instant she had everyone's attention. "Hands up whoever wants to be here when it goes off."

Muttering resumed, rippling through the hall like the tide, but no one spoke up.

"Okay. The person you do not want to piss off, the _only_ person with a handy dandy exit strategy out of L.A., is the perky redhead over there." Faith indicated Willow, who gave a cheery wave. "Who just happens to be a close personal friend of these two," she said, jerking her thumb at Angel and Spike.

"But they're demons," a woman shouted.

"Yeah, I saw that one's fangs," yelled a hippie dude with a ponytail, gesturing at Spike.

Buffy looked at the blond vampire, who shrugged.

"Bloke wouldn't give me a smoke."

Buffy glanced at the hippie, who seemed taken aback.

"Well, I've only got a few left," he said. "I'm rationing myself as it is."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

Before the mumbles and protests could regain ascendancy, a male voice spoke.

"What's going on?"

The crowd parted like the red sea to reveal Connor. His gaze skipped around, taking in Angel and Spike, Buffy and Faith, and the ring of people surrounding them. His eyes landed on Rocky, who was standing nearby.

"Uh, seems you brought a couple vamps back with you," Rocky said with an air of apology, as if Connor had made a minor faux pas like using the wrong fork at dinner.

Connor nodded, cool as a frozen cucumber. "Yeah, the tall one's my dad."

"Oy--" Spike began. Buffy elbowed him in the gut.

"The dad you've been scouring the city for? He's a vamp?" Rocky said.

Connor shrugged. "Never said he was perfect. But he's still my dad." A feral light gleamed in his eyes and though he hadn't so much as moved a muscle, Buffy felt the hair on the back of her neck spring to attention. His eyes flicked from person to person. "Anyone have a problem with that?"

The chamber fell silent.

Buffy glanced at Angel, saw his eyes glisten with pride, and smiled. Sensing the change in mood, she raised her voice. "Pack up your stuff: food, clothing, knick-knacks...but no weapons," she added on the spur of the moment. "Anyone carrying a weapon stays here."

"How're we supposed to defend ourselves?" said a quiet-spoken man with greying hair.

"You won't need to." Willow's face glowed bright red as heads turned towards her. "You won't be running into any demons...except for them, of course," she said with a sheepish nod at Angel and Spike.

Faith clapped her hands and everyone jumped. "You heard the lady."

After a tense moment the crowd began to disperse, breaking off into small groups and chattering amongst themselves as they wandered off. Buffy looked round at her friends, her heart still beating a little fast. As her gaze fell on Faith she felt a new respect for her sister slayer. Buffy had spent barely a day with these people before she was ready to knock some sense into them; she didn't know how Faith had managed to restrain herself.

* * *

Willow stood in the driveway looking north, the auditorium behind her to her left. She felt the people waiting behind her, milling on the steps and around the car. No one spoke, but the rustling and the coughs and the tangible scent of fear conveyed the nervousness of the crowd. Glancing down, she checked that the glass dish of dried hawthorn berries was in place.

As she looked up she saw Illyria standing to one side, watching her. The former god had been scornful of Willow's intention to invoke a goddess rather than initiate the portal herself. It had taken some convincing before Illyria accepted that Willow knew what she was doing.

She closed her eyes and, as Illyria had coached her, conjured a mental image of the destination world. She took her time, forgetting all else, letting the sights, sounds, smells and textures take shape until she could almost believe she was there. When she was ready she drew on her power and opened her eyes.

"I beseech thee, Cardea, Goddess of doorways,  
Accept this sacrifice and hear my plea."

Willow knelt and used a lighter to set the tiny pile of berries on fire. It looked pitiful but she'd only had a small packet of the herb in her bag. She hoped Cardea was in a generous mood. Yellow flame slowly licked the wrinkly red fruit, releasing black smoke and a tangy aroma. Out of nowhere, green fire flared and consumed every last berry. She breathed a sigh of relief and rose.

"Grant me the knowledge and the will  
To open what is shut and shut what is open."

Using a hastily improvised wand of oak, Willow sketched a circle in the air. So quickly it caught her off guard, power was siphoned from her, leaving her sweating and panting. Cries rang out as a golden circle punched into existence. Within the circle lay a pristine meadow bordered by a forest. Willow reached out. The acrid scent of ozone stung her nostrils, but her trembling hand passed unhindered through the doorway. She turned and nodded at Faith.

"Okay, we're moving out," Faith said. She marched up to the portal and, hesitating for just a second, stepped through the circle.

With little fuss, the procession travelled from one world to another. Willow watched from the sidelines, getting more jittery by the minute. But she managed a wave when Jean drove past in the rental car, wide-eyed daughters crammed into the front seat and unwalking wounded in the back. And another wave when Angel and Spike dashed across, trailed by a more leisurely Connor and Illyria. She even smiled when she saw the vampires throw off their cloaks and bask in the other world's sun.

Burdened by supplies and the injured, the transfer took nearly half an hour, by which time Willow was fighting the urge to shove the remaining people willy nilly across the threshold. Finally, after what seemed like a week, Buffy and Xander were the only ones still to cross.

Willow hugged Xander, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"You sure about this, Will," Xander said. "I could stay with you, give you moral support while you fight the evil nuke."

"You don't have to be with me to do that, Xan." She forced herself to let go, smiling up at him. "I'll be okay."

"You'd better," Buffy said, squeezing the breath out of Willow. "Or I'll come after you just so I can kick your ass."

Willow grinned, but stopped when she noticed Xander's right wrist was bare. "Xander, where's your bracelet?"

"I took it off," he said. "It clashed with my manliness."

"Put it back on."

"But Will--"

"Xander, it's linked to mine, remember?" Willow said, shaking her own bangle in his face. "It'll help Gi...I mean, it'll help me find you guys."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Why would you need help? Aren't you just gonna open up the same portal?"

"Sure, but it's a big world. You could move around or get lost. The bracelet gives me the edge."

Buffy and Xander appeared dubious, but Willow didn't give them time to think. "Guys, you need to go now," she said. Xander looked as if he wanted to argue, but she pushed them towards the portal. "Go."

Waving, she watched her best friends walk through the circle. She had a note in her pocket addressed to Giles, explaining what had happened to the others. She hoped that it and her bangle would find their way to him, but failing that she'd instructed Buffy and Xander in the letters she'd given Melissa to seek out the magical creatures in the other world. Willow was satisfied she'd done everything she could to help them return home, yet she still had the nagging feeling that she was betraying them. She shook herself and set her jaw.

It was time to close the portal.

* * *

From another world, Buffy looked back at Willow. Something in the redhead's sad smile gnawed at her. This felt all wrong. Deep down her slayer instincts screamed at her, but she didn't know what to do.

Spike came up beside her. He, too, was staring at Willow, eyes narrowed.

The portal began to shrink, and something inside Buffy crystallised. She was a slayer; she belonged at the frontlines. She couldn't let Willow do this alone, no matter what it cost her.

"Oh, sod it," Spike said, and he hurtled through the portal.

"No!" Willow shouted.

Buffy needed no more encouragement. She followed him across the threshold.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

So sorry for the delay. Time got away from me. But this story is finally finished. Woohoo! I'm posting both the last chapter and the epilogue today.

* * *

As Buffy emerged from the portal, she saw Spike throw his cloak over his head and scamper to the trees. Steam billowed in his wake as he skidded to a stop in the shade. 

"No no no no," Willow said, hands fluttering wildly.

Buffy started to reassure her, but a shove from behind sent her staggering. She spun round to see Faith grinning at her.

"Sorry, B. You were hogging the road."

Willow stumbled over to the slayers and pawed at them, trying to propel them back through the portal. "You guys have to go back!"

"Hey, not so grabby, Red," Faith said.

Buffy ignored Willow's efforts, her attention caught by the sight of Xander galloping towards the noticeably smaller portal. She rushed to stand directly in front of the doorway, holding her hands up.

"Xander, no!"

He kept coming, his face contorted with fear and desperation. Buffy's resolve teetered. Part of her wanted him with them -- he'd more than earned it -- but all she could see was his missing eye; the price he'd paid for his loyalty. She couldn't bear it if he got hurt like that again.

Like a gift from the gods, Angel moved into her field of vision. In a blur of motion he tackled Xander to the ground, bringing them to a sliding halt. Xander fought back. His elbow connected with Angel's jaw and he might have broken free if Connor hadn't joined the fray. Together, father and son easily subdued Xander. His outraged yells tore at her heart as Buffy retreated to stand between Faith and a tearful but quiet Willow.

Buffy watched the portal diminish, her throat aching. She understood; he had Connor to consider. And, besides, it wasn't as if she really needed him. Nope, not at all. Yet not until the hovering circle was less than a metre across did she accept that Angel had chosen to stay with his son. She closed her eyes.

Faith's cry of surprise made Buffy snap her eyes open in time to see a cloaked figure dive through the circle, the cloak sizzling as it grazed the shrinking boundary of the portal. Without slowing the figure dodged the three women and sprinted for the trees.

Not daring to trust her senses, Buffy held her breath as whoever it was stopped next to Spike and pushed back the hood. When she saw Angel wipe his forehead, a happy tingly warmth spread through her chest. But she didn't have long to enjoy the sensation.

With startling force Willow jerked her around. She was shaking. "Are you crazy? What do you think you're doing?"

Buffy gripped Willow's arms. "Don't wig on me now, Will."

"But, Buffy, I don't know if I can protect you. Oh God, the radiation. You'll get cancer!" She cast an anguished glance at the now miniscule portal.

Following her gaze, Buffy saw the portal vanish in a flare of light. "Actually, cancer's looking like the best case scenario right about now."

"Why did you have to come back?" Willow said, green eyes glistening.

"Because I'm the slayer," Buffy said. Faith cleared her throat. Loudly. Twisting her head, Buffy shot her an annoyed glance, but said, "I mean, a slayer. This is our fight as much as it is yours."

"No, it's not." Willow's lower lip quivered. "I don't want you here. I don't want you to see--" She looked away.

Willow's unexpected rejection stung. Sure, Buffy had expected some crankiness, maybe even a hissy fit or two, but not this level of hostility. After a moment she released Willow, but didn't back down. "If it'd been me left behind you would've been the first one back through the portal, so how about you dial down the Shatner."

Cheeks flushed, Willow glanced at Faith, then Angel and Spike, and back to Buffy. "This is different."

"How?"

"Because you're making this harder than it has to be. Because you'll distract me and make me screw up."

Buffy's mouth fell open. For the first time doubt crept into her heart. Was Willow right? _Had_ she made the situation worse? She didn't know what to say.

"I don't think so, Willow," Angel called. The three women looked at him. "The way I look at it, we're the distraction that's going to give you time to work."

Balling her fists, Willow stomped towards the trees, trailed at a safe distance by the slayers. The redheaded witch glared at Angel.

"I didn't need you to do that. I had everything covered!" she said. He gave her a sceptical look. "Okay, maybe not covered in the strictest sense, but I would've...improvised!"

"This is my town. If anyone's gonna die here, it's gonna be me," Angel said, unrepentant. His mouth curved into a sly smile. "Besides, this is what_ I _do."

Willow's eyes narrowed. "Okay, first off, throwing my own words back in my face is just plain rude. And second, what about Connor?"

"Connor can take care of himself."

"How would you know? You've spent all of what, five minutes with him?"

"Willow," he said, face tightening, "you don't want to go down this road."

Buffy winced, but Willow was in full flight and not to be denied her righteous indignation. "You twit! You finally have a chance to live a life with your son and you give it up. For what? To come back here and play the hero?"

"You tell him, Red," crowed Spike.

Willow scowled at him. "And you. This is all your fault. You're the one who put the idea in their heads. You're...you're a bad seed!"

"Hey, I came back to help you, you ungrateful wench!"

"I didn't ask for your help, you undead...person! I didn't ask any of you for help, stupid...hero-type people." Willow let out an inarticulate cry of frustration and stormed off.

"Put ideas in their heads," Spike muttered. He glared at Angel. "Like I could get a thought through that thick skull."

"Listen, you," Angel said, "I had everything under control until you opened your big..."

Buffy exchanged an exasperated glance with Faith. Yup, they were off to a great start.

* * *

Willow sat cross-legged on the stage, her pulse drumming in her ears. She inhaled deep breaths, trying to regain her composure. In retrospect, it had probably been unrealistic to expect Buffy to meekly toddle off while someone she cared about fought the baddies. Buffy's loyalty was one of her more endearing, if frustrating, traits. 

She glanced over at her silent companions, the three comatose witches. Willow hated that they were going to die here, but she --_ they_ -- still needed the protection spell. Given what they'd already sacrificed, she hoped they would have understood.

Stuck to the stage floor, a solitary candle kept vigil over the sleepers. In the feeble light, Willow could barely discern the rise and fall of their chests. She got up and grabbed half a dozen candles from a box under the table. Lighting each one, she arranged them around the women. The least she could do was not let them die in the dark.

Calmed by the physical and familiar ritual, she sat down again, her thoughts still on the trio. She'd been shocked when she realised what they'd done. Magic didn't solve everything, she knew that, but its usage was as varied as Mother Nature herself. She couldn't believe they hadn't found another way.

Now she understood; there was no other way, not unless they were willing to sacrifice others. Faced with a similar dilemma, Willow had discovered that she, too, preferred to take the burden on herself. She set her jaw. Closing down the conduit was going to take everything she had.

Everything.

And she was okay with that. Sure, there'd been that hour of mind-numbing terror last night, when she'd lain awake listening to Buffy toss and turn and wondering just how badly it was going to hurt, when she'd had to fight the urge to use Xander as her own personal security blanket; but it had passed. As the night wore on, her survival instincts had receded and her brain had unlocked.

It had to be done; it was as simple as that. All things considered, she thought it was not a bad way to make up for trying to destroy the world. And maybe, just maybe, she'd get to be with Tara. Willow smiled, feeling warm inside.

Voices echoed down the other end of the auditorium. Although the closed curtains concealed her, Willow stiffened. She wasn't ready to talk to Buffy. But as she heard a shoe squeak behind her, she realised she might not have a choice.

Clothing rustled as someone lowered themselves beside her, and a hint of musky fragrance wafted to Willow's nose.

Faith.

Willow glanced at the dark-haired slayer. She was staring at the witches.

"You think they're up on current events?" Faith said, not taking her eyes off the three women.

"I don't know. I'm hoping they're just having happy dreams with ponies and ice cream and Julie Andrews singing, you know?"

"Julie Andrews?" Faith shuddered and fell silent.

Non-chatty Faith made Willow nervous, since the slayer usually had plenty to say. Willow watched her out of the corner of her eye, waiting her out. La, la-la, she thought, I'm fine, I can do this. But as the minutes ticked by without a word from Faith, Willow began to squirm. Finally she couldn't take it anymore.

"I wish I could talk to them," she blurted.

Faith smiled. "They're brave women."

"Yeah."

"Also pretty selfish."

"Selfish!" Willow whipped her head round, ready to rip into the slayer.

Unfazed, Faith met her gaze. "They did what they wanted without talking to anyone else. Without thinking about how the people they left behind would feel."

Willow turned back to the witches, discomfited by Faith's knowing eyes. "They did what had to be done."

"Not disputing that. But not giving their friends a chance to say goodbye -- that's harsh, Will."

"Maybe they were trying to protect their friends."

"Or maybe they were trying to protect themselves."

"That...that's crazy talk!"

In a careful tone, Faith said, "I know saying goodbye ain't easy."

Abandoning the pretence, Willow groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Saying goodbye is a cakewalk compared to what you're asking me to do."

"Buffy deserves to know."

"She'll know. After."

"Will--"

"She'll freak," Willow said, straightening. "Maybe even try to stop me."

Faith exhaled an audible breath. Willow knew she sounded heartless, but she couldn't allow Buffy the chance to shake her resolve.

"Okay." Faith shook her head. "Buffy is so gonna kick my ass. Or worse, gimme a wedgie."

Relieved, Willow nodded at Faith. "Thanks." In spite of her efforts, Willow's eyes began to prickle.

"You don't need a hug, do you?" Faith said, fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. "Cause I don't do hugs."

Willow smiled faintly. "Nah, I'm good."

"Cool." After one last glance at the witches Faith bounced to her feet and made for the side of the stage.

"Faith." Willow waited for her to look round. "Why'd you come back?"

Faith grinned. "What, and let you guys have all the fun? Not my style, Red." She paused. "Get some sleep. You look like crap and we've got a big night ahead."

"Nag, nag, nag," Willow grumbled, though she couldn't help smiling. As Faith clattered down the steps, Willow scooted over to a bare mattress and lay on her back, letting her body sink into it.

She didn't expect to fall asleep, though; she was still wired from the portal spell. I'll just rest my eyes for a bit, she thought as she closed them. She heard Angel and Spike squabbling in the distance; then their voices seemed to drift away.

* * *

Buffy pottered around the foyer, taking stock of what was left of the supplies; snack foods, chocolate, soda, water, a few wrinkly apples. She noted, with a grimace, that the carton of pickled herrings remained alone and unloved next to the window. 

It was quiet. Too quiet, she mused. She had gotten used to the constant noise of people in the building. Just then, she heard Angel and Spike bickering in the auditorium. A minute later Faith's sharp voice cut them off, eliciting a smile from Buffy; but it soon faded.

She felt edgy, nervous, more so than she would've expected. Not that she wasn't anxious about the forthcoming mission, but she was an experienced slayer and such battles were her element. Deep down, a big part of her was eager for the chance to tear into a demon horde. No, something else was gnawing at her, a distinct intuition that something bad was going to happen tonight.

Squatting in one corner, she rummaged through the pile of weapons, daintily sorting the firearms into a separate heap. As she discarded an oily shotgun she recalled Xander boasting about the tazer rifles he'd managed to scrounge from the army. All of a sudden the notion of escaping the oppressive building seemed a great idea and, on impulse, she left the foyer.

Buffy trotted down the steps to the army truck, relishing the sunshine and fresh air; the unwashed masses had neglected to take their body odour with them. She went to the back and let down the tailgate. After eyeing the nuke for a long moment she leapt into the truck.

The missile was no higher than her shoulder, yet its presence seemed to extend beyond the space it occupied, creating an aura of malevolence. Buffy sidled past, shivering as the metal gleamed through a hole in the tarpaulin, and located a rectangular crate stacked against the cab. Kneeling, she ran her fingertips over the nailed down top. She considered going to look for a crowbar, but then it struck her that the box was the perfect object to vent her nerves on. Without hesitation Buffy drove her fist through the wood, exhaling sharply. She penetrated the lid with a satisfying crack and ripped it off.

"That make you feel any better?"

Buffy glanced over her shoulder and saw Faith standing at the end of the truck.

"Didn't make me feel worse," Buffy said, turning back to dig through the foam-packed crate. She extracted a rifle and examined it, noting that the power cell was fully charged. It was definitely an initiative weapon, though more souped up than the ones she remembered from Sunnydale. She replaced it in the crate and, feeling Faith's eyes on her back, rose and pivoted in one graceful move. "Something you need, Faith?"

"Just wondering where you'd got to," Faith said as she vaulted into the truck.

"Didn't know I needed permission to leave the building," Buffy said, cocking an eyebrow.

Faith grinned. "Just call me Principal Faith."

Crossing her arms, Buffy paced towards her. "Willow okay?"

"She's taking a nap."

"Wasn't what I asked."

Leaning against the nuke, Faith nodded in wry acknowledgement. "She's frazzled." She glanced at the crate. "Seems like she's not the only one."

"Yeah. Weapons that can reduce me to a stain on the sidewalk make me twitchy. Go figure."

"Huh." Grabbing handfuls of tarp, Faith threw the covering off the nuke before Buffy could stop her. She cringed as Faith ran her hand along the gleaming metal casing. "I wouldn't worry. I'm pretty sure Willow's got Fat Man here covered."

For a second, as Faith glanced at her, Buffy thought she saw pity in Faith's sable eyes, but it was gone the next instant. Swivelling, Faith dropped to the floor, settling her back against the side of the truck and dangling one leg off the edge.

"Wanna hear something whacked?" Faith said. "I missed this whole apocalyptic thing. Well, not so much the apocalypse as that rush you get when you have the fate of the world in your hands."

Buffy pursed her mouth. "Life on the open road boring you?" She stepped over Faith's leg and sat against the opposite side of the truck, mirroring Faith's pose.

"It just feels like I've fallen into a rut: cheap motels and grouchy slayers. It's gotten to the point where I look forward to the homicidal ones just to break up the monotony."

Buffy did a double take. "Tell me you're exaggerating."

Faith quirked her mouth. "Well, only two actually tried to corpsify me. The others...were just really pissy."

Tilting her head back, Buffy stared at the sky, trying to ignore the missile looming over her. "I didn't think dealing with problem slayers would be such a tough gig."

"What, you thought a chat with Auntie Faith would turn them around?"

"Well...yeah."

Faith snorted. "Most of these girls are too busy hating the world to listen to anyone."

"So what do you do with them?"

"Depends on the girl." Faith shrugged. "Training usually helps, so does having people around who love 'em."

"And the homicidal ones?"

"Shipped them off to Giles," Faith said with a wicked grin. "Last I heard Willow had to de-slayer one of them." Her eyes were contemplative as she gazed at the desolate parking lot. "She giveth and she taketh away."

Buffy frowned. "I didn't know that."

"No? I thought Giles sent you monthly reports."

Ah, mystery solved. Buffy shrugged. "I'm a little behind on my reading."

Faith gave her a knowing smile. "Better than valium, huh?"

"I can barely get through half a page before I start slipping into a coma," Buffy admitted. She ran a hand through her loose locks and made a face; the dry shampoo had been a godsend but it wasn't the same as a hot shower. "Besides, Giles is supposed to call me with the important stuff."

"Maybe he didn't wanna interrupt your swanky new life," Faith said with a trace of bitterness.

Buffy studied her. "Maybe you should take a break, come to Rome for a couple months. Shopping, cute Italian guys and, oh, there's this little place near my apartment that makes the_ best _gelato. I swear, it's better than se--"

"Sounds good in theory, but the last time I was in a major airport I came this close to getting busted." Faith took a deep breath. "S'okay. Smalltown America's a good place to stay lost for a while."

"Yeah, but moving around like you do, it's easy to get disconnected."

"Oh, I've found plenty of ways to get connected," Faith said with a sly wink.

Warmth bathed Buffy's cheeks. "So not what I meant," she said. "Look, maybe what you need is a partner...someone to watch your back...keep you company."

Faith shook her head. "I don't need a sidekick. I work better alone."

"That's the point, Faith. You're not alone."

"Maybe I should be."

"What?"

After a moment Faith said, "You ever wonder whether we did the right thing? Activating the potentials?"

Buffy forced herself not to look away. "Right or wrong, we didn't have a choice."

Faith made a big show of examining her fingernails. "And what happens when someone else gets to one of these girls before we do?"

"We deal with it."

"I'm not sure putting them in a coma is the way to go," said Faith, somehow managing to look both amused and impatient.

"No argument here," Buffy said, flushing. She bit her lip. "I could call Robin--"

"Robin and I are history," Faith's eyes flashed, "as in ancient."

"That's not what he says."

Unexpectedly, Faith smiled. "He always was an optimist," she said with quiet affection.

"Faith, I know it's none of my business--"

"So how about we keep it that way," Faith said, brusque but not angry.

"Fine." Buffy hesitated, and spoke in a rush, wanting to get the words out before Faith cut her off. "Just don't make the same mistake I did -- don't shut him out. Faith, you don't have to be alone."

"I'll keep that in mind, Dr Phil."

Buffy's mouth twitched. "You know, you_ really_ need a vacation."

* * *

Willow woke with a start. It was quiet, and darker than it'd been before she fell asleep. Panicked and thinking she must have overslept, she staggered to her feet and shoved aside the heavy curtains cloaking the stage. 

Standing at the edge, she glanced up at the high auditorium windows and heaved a sigh. Pink and gold streaks lit the dusky sky; the day was just ending. She could make out Angel, Spike and Buffy sprawled on mattresses scattered around the chamber, but Faith was nowhere to be seen.

Willow checked on the witches and replaced three candles that had burnt out before leaving the stage. Fortunately, the absence of sleeping bags and airbeds made it easier to tiptoe through the auditorium. As she skirted around Angel her stomach rumbled. Willow froze, but no one stirred. She continued to the foyer, where she hunted for something to eat, falling on a lonely packet of Oreos like a hungry wolf.

"Hey, Will."

Willow jumped and swung around. "Hey, Buffy," she said through a mouthful of chocolate cookie. She swallowed a chunk involuntarily and started choking.

Eyes widening, Buffy leapt forward and pounded Willow's back, almost hammering her to the ground. Waving off the slayer's "help", Willow hacked and coughed, managing to dislodge the cookie bits in her throat.

"You all right?" Buffy said.

"Sure." Willow swallowed. "Apart from my lungs being in my stomach."

"Uh, yeah, sometimes I get carried away."

Their eyes met for a second before both glanced away. Willow wandered off, covering her awkwardness by searching for a bottle of water. She found one and took a sip, sneakily observing Buffy. The slayer knelt by a canvas bag bulging with weapons, attempting to zip it up. Although the bag was obviously too full, she kept tugging until the zip snapped off in her hand. She glanced up and Willow looked away, pretending to study the oh-so-fascinating blank wall.

Buffy sighed. "So...you ready for this?"

"Good to go," Willow said, not looking at her.

"Glad to hear it." Buffy rose. "Cause this transmutant spell is not something you wanna mess up." Her eyes widened. "Not that I'm doubting," she said quickly. "I am No Doubt Buffy."

Head tilted, Willow glanced at her.

"Okay, maybe I have a little doubt," Buffy said.

"Me too," Willow chirped. "Too bad it's too late for you to do anything about it."

Buffy gulped. "What happened to the reassuring Willow I know and love?"

Willow shrugged as she nibbled on an Oreo.

Buffy took a deep breath. "Okay, I guess I deserved that." She edged closer. "But I didn't come back to stomp all over your toes. I need to be here. Can you understand that?"

Though she wasn't ready to forgive her, Willow couldn't help but respond to Buffy's overtures. Plus she was doing that doe-eyed thing that never failed to turn Willow into a spineless mush. Relenting, she swung round to face Buffy.

"It just...it feels like you didn't trust me to do this alone," Willow said.

"Are you kidding?" Buffy's eyebrows shot up. "Will, I'm trusting you with my_ life_. Do you have any idea how much that nuke scares me? I have to pretend it's a prop from some cheesy B-movie just so I don't get stuck in panic mode."

"Oh." A hot flush of shame worked its way up Willow's neck. "I didn't know."

"And Angel was right -- you're going to need our help."

Unable to disagree, Willow nodded, but her stomach contracted into a hard knot. She knew how hard it was to watch a loved one die, and she didn't want that for her friends, Buffy least of all. But it was too late to change that now. Willow knew that nothing was going to stop the others from accompanying her. Truth be told, she didn't want to stop them. Gazing at Buffy's earnest face, Willow realised that the only thing she could do was to make her peace.

"Hey, I'm sorry about the Linda Blair number before," she said with an apologetic shrug. "You kinda surprised me."

"Ditto," Buffy said wryly. She looked down for a second. "So...we're okay?"

"Yeah, we're good."

Before she knew it Willow was in Buffy's arms. Willow smiled and hugged her back. Entwined with the slayer, she felt safe and loved, buoyed by the strength of her best friend.

"Bloody hell. What's next, a group hug?" Spike stood in the doorway to the auditorium, smoothing his bed hair. Looking at him over Buffy's shoulder, Willow saw his hand pause in mid-stroke. "On second thought..." Throwing his arms wide open, he shuffled towards them.

"In your dreams, Spike," Buffy said without turning around. Willow giggled at Spike's pouty face.

* * *

The night was humid, despite the clear skies. Perched on the front steps, Buffy leaned back on her hands and gazed at the stars. Basking in the vastness of the heavens usually calmed her, but not tonight. She was jittery, nagged by the persistent sensation that something out there was watching her, despite the apparent stillness. 

A familiar presence approached from behind. She straightened, but didn't look round.

"The stars are so bright," Angel said as he took a seat beside her.

"Yeah, that pesky electricity. Who needs it."

He didn't respond and, feeling ill at ease, Buffy made no further attempt at conversation. She watched the moon rise, thoughts of Connor pricking her conscience. She doubted she was the sole reason Angel had returned, but she felt guilty nonetheless; he was here with her instead of there with his son.

Taking a sip of water, she sneaked a glance at Angel, at his aquiline profile revealed by the silvery light. She noticed he'd put on a fresh black t-shirt. It was tight on him and she couldn't help but admire the effect.

She never would've asked it of him, but Buffy couldn't deny the sheer joy she'd felt when he had come back. She wanted to tell him so, but, afraid of seeing regret on his face, she didn't.

Buffy glanced at the truck, imagining she could see the nuke inside. After all the prophecies she'd encountered, she wondered if this was just one more. Was there, somewhere on a dusty shelf, buried in an ancient library, a tattered parchment inscribed with words foretelling these events? Could they have prevented it, or at least been better prepared? Had Angel's fateful choice to join Wolfram & Hart been inevitable?

"How did this happen?" she said.

He slanted a cautious look her way. "Haven't we been through this?"

"No, I meant...why the corporate merger?"

"Oh, that."

"Yes, _that_," she said, an edge to her voice. He sounded like he'd given it no more thought than choosing which brand of hair gel to buy.

Resting elbows on knees, Angel steepled his hands. "I did it for Connor. To protect him."

She kept her tone neutral. "You could've come to me."

"You were battling the First, Buffy. Didn't leave a lot of spare time to help old friends."

"I would've made time."

"To help _my _son?"

Buffy didn't reply. He had a fair point, though she would've sooner bitten her tongue off than admit it.

Angel sighed. "Anyhow, I don't know that you could've helped him. He was somewhat...psychotic by that point."

She pondered for a moment. "Did I know about him...before the mind wipe?"

He glanced at her. "Of course."

"And how'd I take the blessed event?"

"There was some yelling involved. Also some fisticuffs. Made me really glad I decided to tell you in person," Angel said, his expression wry.

It was an odd feeling to be ashamed of something she couldn't remember doing. "Sorry," she said.

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

Buffy stared down at her boots. "I thought vampires couldn't have children."

Angel hesitated. "They can't."

"So..."

He cleared his throat. "Well, it's an interesting story--"

"You know what, never mind. I don't wanna know."

His relief was palpable. "That's probably best." Under his breath he added, "...for me."

She snorted.

After several minutes of silence Angel said, "So how's life in the Eternal City?"

"The usual; babysitting junior slayers, keeping Dawn and Andrew out of trouble, shopping. Oh, and there's this little place near my apartment that makes--"

"Are you...seeing anyone?" he said, all faux casual.

"Nope."

Angel's face became frigid. "You don't have to lie to protect my feelings, Buffy."

"I'm not," she said, taken aback. Then she remembered... "Oh, this is about that Laurel and Hardy routine you and Spike pulled in Rome, isn't it?"

He ducked his head. "Maybe."

Maybe, her ass. "So what did you see...exactly?"

Angel glanced at her. "You were dancing."

"And?"

His eyebrows shot up. "And? There was an and?"

"Um, no?"

Angel scowled.

"It was just a kiss..." Buffy caught herself. "Wait a second, what am I doing?" She poked Angel's arm. "You have no call getting growly, mister. I'm a free agent. Free, I tell you!"

Under her glare, Angel deflated. "I know."

She took pity on him. "Besides, there's nothing to get growly about. We were just dancing. In a nightclub full of people, I might add."

"But it was your sexy 'look at me, I saved the world' dance!"

She stared. "Angel, I do that dance with everyone."

"Oh." He thought for a second and his eyes narrowed. "Who's _everyone_?"

Buffy groaned. "You know, I've already had my quota of jealous ex-boyfriend crap today, so let's not do this, okay?"

Angel turned away, but not before she saw the kicked-puppy look gracing his face. "Fine," he said.

She sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna lie and say I spend my nights at home knitting. I date, I dance, and, yes, I flirt...just like other women my age. But that's all. I'm not involved with anyone." She paused. "Not anymore."

"What about the Immortal?" Angel said, puckering his brow.

"What about him?"

"Andrew said that you...he said there was snuggling."

"Uh huh. The same kind of snuggling one might enjoy with, say, their werewolf girlfriend?"

Angel flinched. "How did you--"

"You made the gossip column in Demon Weekly," Buffy said with a straight face.

"What?" he said, flustered.

She grinned and waited for the penny to drop. It took longer than she expected.

At last Angel said, "You were spying on me?" His voice was higher than normal.

Buffy resisted the temptation to make a snide pot and kettle remark. She shrugged. "Not exactly. I just had a slayer swing through town every month or so to catch up on the local goss."

He glared. "What, so sending Willow to check up on me wasn't enough?"

"Hey, at least _my _spy never got caught."

Angel lowered his gaze. After a long pause he said, "I just...I wanted to be sure you were okay."

Buffy touched his chin, nudging his head so she could see his eyes. "I know. Me too."

His shoulders relaxed. "I know you're not ready, and maybe you never will be, but I can't help being jealous when I hear about you with another guy." He grimaced. "Especially that guy."

"Well, I didn't exactly turn cartwheels when I heard about you and wolfgirl." She winced. "Or when I met Connor."

Angel was quiet for a moment. "He's the best thing that's ever come out of my existence."

"Yeah, he's a good kid." Buffy felt more than saw Angel grin. She suppressed a smile. "Kinda dimwitted, though. I figure he gets that from his dad."

"That and his dashing good looks, right?"

"Oh, goes without saying."

She glanced at him, and caught her breath at the look in his eyes. It was love, but love that wasn't borne of sex or passion. And yet it was no less powerful for that. It was a look she might've received from Willow, or Xander, or even Spike; it was about friendship, about acceptance, and it was enduring. Buffy reached for his hand at the same time that he reached for hers.

They met halfway.

* * *

Xander sat alone atop a hill overlooking the valley where they'd set up camp. Once the portal had vanished, it hadn't taken long for the curious natives to come a-calling to welcome them, and their friendly and innocent natures had soon won over even the most wary of the group. Of course, the humans' lack of weapons had gone a long way towards ensuring that the introductions stayed peaceful. 

Music drifted to his ears; reminiscent of a jig, he thought, though he really didn't know what a jig was. It just sounded like jiggy music, lots of drums and some kind of flute. The camp looked festive and merry, humans and natives mingling in the radiance of the twin moons, but Xander wanted no part of it. What he wanted was to be in L.A. with his best friends.

He'd read Willow's letter so many times the paper was starting to lose its properties as a solid. At first he thought Buffy had known, but then he read the letter addressed to her. Not that it made him feel any better.

Xander spotted Connor loping up the slope and gritted his teeth. When Connor reached the top he flopped down next to Xander.

"So when are you gonna stop sulking and come join the party?"

Xander compressed his mouth.

Connor sighed. "Still not talking to me. Come on, how many times do I have to apologise?"

Xander just glared. Tilting his head, Connor gave him a speculative look.

"You know, with the brooding, and that stick up your butt, you kinda remind me of my dad."

"You take that back!" Xander said, horrified.

Connor grinned in triumph. "It speaks!"

Scowling, Xander considered retreating back into his pit of despair, but the damage had already been done. "You had no right," he said with an emphatic finger point.

"Yeah, I know."

Xander blinked. "So why'd you take me down, then?"

"I guess I got caught up in the moment," Connor said, avoiding his gaze.

Flummoxed, Xander had to take a moment to digest that revelation. In a weird way it actually made sense.

"Hey, I hear there's gonna be dancing and stuff," Connor said, bounding to his feet as if springs were attached to his backside. "And you know, I'd hate to be the only one looking like a dork."

"Funny," Xander said with a grimace. "I think I'm starting to see the resemblance to Angel."

"It'll take your mind off what's happening in L.A."

Xander had to admit the kid had a point. Sitting here alone imagining what was happening would only get him an extended vacation in Crazyville. He nodded, levered himself off the grassy mound, and started down the hill. Glancing at Connor striding beside him, Xander realised that he had the perfect opportunity to enact a little revenge on Angel.

"Tell me, kid, you ever heard of the Snoopy dance?"

* * *

Willow sucked on the last bite of a Hershey bar, letting the chocolate melt in her mouth. Still hungry, she picked at the pile of snack foods, opting for a nut bar this time. She'd been munching non-stop for an hour, although as midnight drew nearer it got harder and harder to keep her food down. 

Faith was dozing a couple mattresses away while Spike lay close by, staring at the ceiling and looking disturbingly like a corpse. Nonetheless Willow was grateful for their presence. Outside the small area lit by the lantern, the auditorium was shrouded in shadows. It gave her the wiggins.

A draft tickled her neck. Shivering, she put down the nut bar and wrapped her arms around her middle. It felt like the temperature had just dropped ten degrees.

She glanced at Xander's watch, which she wore in place of her own, and decided it was time for another stroll down to the stage to check on the witches. Despite the circle of candles around them, from this distance the women were just a dark mound.

As Willow got to her feet the candles on the stage flickered, attracting her attention. Curious but not alarmed, she scanned the area between the drawn back curtains. Dark shadows emerged from the wings, gliding across the stage. Willow jumped, letting out an involuntary scream. Faith and Spike shot upright.

As the shadows converged on the women, Willow instinctively raced towards the stage, stumbling over mattresses in the gloom.

"Willow, get your ass back here!" Faith yelled.

Willow ignored her, but the next thing she knew an iron grip on her arm jerked her to a halt. She whirled round to see Faith's blurry features.

"The exit's back that way."

"But..." Willow gestured towards the stage.

"It's over, Will. Do the math." Faith's hoarse, pain-filled voice belied her terse words. "They're gone."

Though she knew Faith was right, Willow hesitated. The growls coming from the stage were bad enough, but the ripping and tearing sounds were terrible to hear, fanning Willow's fury until the desire to unleash her power almost overwhelmed her.

Faith squeezed Willow's arm. "If we don't go now everything they've done will be for nothing."

The growls grew louder, and Willow heard the heavy thumps of feet landing on the wooden floor. She nodded and let Faith drag her towards the foyer. But she was caught off guard when Faith shoved her at Spike.

"Get her out of here," Faith said as she whirled to meet the oncoming demons. Only two vampires, but behind them three more were leaping off the stage.

"What?" Willow said. "No!"

"Spike, go!" Faith slugged the first vampire, and spun to reverse kick the other in the chest.

That was the last thing Willow saw before Spike yanked her from the auditorium. In the foyer he slowed just long enough to snatch up the bag of weapons. As they burst onto the front steps Buffy and Angel leapt to their feet, jerking their hands apart.

"The spell's down," Willow said, breathless.

Buffy's guilty expression melted into concern, and she glanced into the foyer. "Faith?"

"Buying us the time we're wasting," Spike snapped.

Buffy flinched and her eyes hardened. "Okay. Let's go."

They ran down the steps. Willow tripped as she tried to keep up with Spike; his hold on her arm was all that prevented her from wiping out. As they reached the bottom of the steps, howls echoed from every direction and tiny yellow and red lights winked in the night; eyes, Willow realised a split second later.

"Spike, you're driving," Buffy said. She took the bag of weapons from him and darted to the back of the truck, Angel close behind her. Spike tugged Willow to the driver's side, all but tossed her into the cab, and climbed in after her.

Just before he switched on the engine, Willow heard the unearthly shriek of a vampire being dusted. Through the cracked windscreen she saw demons bounding into the parking lot as the truck began to move.

Spike steered towards the road and the demons appeared to shift left as the vehicle swerved right. Willow bounced in her seat as they passed over the dip where the driveway met the road. Instead of braking, Spike accelerated, using the entire road to make a wide right turn.

Hoping to see Faith, Willow peered out her window at the auditorium. She gasped as she saw a vampire clinging to the passenger door. Flashing his fangs at her, the demon drew back his fist and punched the window once, twice, penetrating the reinforced glass. He grabbed Willow by the throat before she even had time to think.

"Bugger!" Spike said. She felt him grab at the back of her shirt, but the truck veered across the road and he let go.

Struggling for breath, she clawed at the vampire's hand, without success. He smirked and drew her to the window. She couldn't utter a word to save herself.

Everything began to go fuzzy when she heard a sound she'd heard a thousand times before; the swift thud of a stake penetrating flesh. The vampire collapsed into ash, revealing Faith's bloody face, her dark hair whipped by the wind.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to pick up strangers?" she said with a grin.

"Faith!" Willow felt tears well up. She reached through the hole to hug Faith, but the slayer was already shimmying to the rear of the truck. Giddy with relief, Willow turned to Spike. "She's okay!"

"Fabulous," he said. "Well, we've got nothing to worry about, 'ave we?"

She ignored his sarcasm, preoccupied by the thought that they'd left the school earlier than planned.

"Spike, we're gonna have to take the long way round."

"Eh?"

"If we get to the mansion too early, we might not be able to hold them off."

"You want me to circle the block?" he said, incredulous.

"Well..." She shrugged helplessly.

"This just gets better and better," he muttered, but he turned off the boulevard onto a side street.

"It's not my fault the demons managed to get into the school," Willow said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she remembered exactly why the demons were able to attack. A wave of sorrow clogged her nose and throat, and she sniffled.

"Bloody hell. This isn't the time for waterworks!"

Anger and grief loosened her tongue. "Oh, really. Well, I won't _have _any time later, Mr Sensitive!" Her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth, waiting for the yelling that never came.

She sneaked a glance at Spike. He was hunched over the steering wheel, eyes hooded. He flicked an odd furtive glance at her, and Willow was struck by the sudden realisation that he'd known all along that she wasn't coming back from this spell.

"Okay, well, this is awkward," she said.

Spike's smile was sardonic. "Thought you could just slip into the night without anyone being the wiser, huh?" Though he appeared to be concentrating on manoeuvring through the back streets, she felt the weight of his disapproval.

"No, it's not like that," she said, anxious to make him understand. "This is the only way."

"Bollocks. When it comes to magic there's always another way." His tone gentled. "You would've found it if Tara was still alive."

Her throat swelled. She stared out her window, fighting back tears. "You're wrong," she said, but without conviction.

"If you say so, luv." Spike, too, sounded unconvinced.

They travelled on in silence, Spike driving the truck towards Hollywood, Willow trying not to dwell on what he'd said. He was wrong; he had to be. Her gaze slid to the side mirror and she noticed they'd picked up quite the entourage; at least thirty demons. As she watched, more emerged from shops and side streets to join the chase, as if answering a siren's call.

Up ahead a tall muscular demon appeared right in their path, arms spread as though preparing to catch the truck. Growling, Spike mowed the creature down without even attempting to dodge. As the truck jolted over the body Willow tried not to imagine the mess under the wheels.

"Wow, those demons must be really hungry," she said, mostly to herself.

"Human meat's scarce round here," Spike said. "Plus they're all pumped up from the dark magic."

Willow grimaced. "Hungry _and _high -- how lucky are we."

The tyres squealed as the truck skidded onto Santa Monica Boulevard. She sat up straight, heart thumping against her ribcage. She checked the side mirror again. Their newfound fans were still tagging along, though the pack had thinned out; many of the demons couldn't keep up. Trouble was they weren't giving up entirely, just following at their own pace.

And they were almost there. Spike made another turn. Out of the blue Willow got a clear mental picture of the iron gates at the mansion -- the _closed _iron gates. She leaned forward, trying to pick out Vail's mansion from the rest. She wasn't going to have time to jump out and open the gates, even assuming they were unlocked, but maybe she could use magic... Willow noticed that said gates were coming up fast.

"Spike? Now would be a good time to slow down."

He shot her an evil grin. "You'd better hang onto something, luv."

"Spike!" Fumbling in her haste, Willow strapped on the seat belt, grabbed the door handle, and prayed.

* * *

"Is it just me or are we speeding up?" Faith said. 

Buffy eyed the demons that had managed to keep up for their entire journey; they were starting to lag behind. "It's not you." She jumped onto the side of the truck, fingers clinging to the top as she leaned out. A gust of air blew her hair into her face but she could make out the mansion up ahead. In fact, it was getting awfully close...and they weren't slowing. Realisation hit her like a two by four to the head. She dropped to the floor and flung herself into a corner, bracing her legs against the nuke. "Hang on!"

Faith and Angel glanced at each other and scrambled to grab hold of something solid as the engine revved.

"That crazy son of a bitch!" Angel said, flinging himself into a rear corner.

An ear-splitting clang pierced the night as the truck crashed through the gates. Sparks flew into the air. The truck sped on, swerving off the gravel driveway and onto the lawn, bouncing Buffy's ass off the truck bed.

"Shit!" Faith said as the weapons bag slid down the length of the truck and bumped into the tailgate.

Buffy wanted to laugh, but then she realised that they weren't stopping. "God, he really is crazy." She wrapped her arms over her head just as the truck ploughed through the front door of the mansion. It came to a jarring halt halfway through, slamming Buffy back against the cab.

Chunks of stone rained down in the pitch black. The dust in the air made Buffy cough, but she kept her arms over her head until she was sure no more bits of wall were going to come down.

"Everyone okay?" called Angel from the back of the truck.

"No," said Faith, sounding pissed.

A door creaked open. Buffy heard the snick of a cigarette lighter and light flared inside the mansion. Dusting herself off, Buffy got to her feet. Moments later Willow's shadowy face appeared over the side. As she awkwardly clambered over Buffy moved to steady her. Then Spike vaulted into the truck, grinning like a fiend.

"Are you guys okay?" Willow said, glancing at everyone.

"Shaken, but not stirred," Buffy said, urging her friend towards the rear. Angel unlatched the gate and, one by one, they dropped to the driveway. Buffy brought up the rear, dragging the crate of tazers with her.

As Spike jumped out Angel collared him. "Are you crazy? You could've killed them!" Angel said, gesturing at the others.

Growling, Spike knocked Angel's hands away. "It's a better defensive position, all right! And we don't have time for this."

Buffy glanced across the grounds. Demons were pouring through the crumpled gates, several of them already halfway across the lawn. The sight of them sent blood roaring through her veins, preparing her body for battle.

"He's right," Faith said.

Buffy hurriedly distributed the tazers, tucked an extra stake in her pocket and slung her favourite sword across her back. She glanced at the others as they took their positions and felt a swell of pride at their strength and determination. The four of them, Angel on her left, Faith and Spike on her right, formed an unyielding line between Willow and the demons.

Buffy cushioned the tazer in the crook of her arm. "Make every shot count, guys."

As the first demon came into range she squeezed the trigger...

* * *

Willow's gaze was glued to Xander's wristwatch. Her lemon t-shirt was clinging to her back, damp with sweat. The longer they spent fending off demons, the greater the risk something would go wrong, so she was going to cast the time dilation spell at the last possible second. Xander had assured her that his watch was synchronised with the nuke, but if it was even a second off. The earth trembled and heavy footfalls thundered across the lawn, but she didn't dare turn around. She forced herself to concentrate on the watch. 

Ten, nine, eight, seven... Willow readied her power. As the countdown hit two seconds she let loose a controlled burst of magic at the missile.

"Tempus retardo!"

Nothing seemed to happen. So far, so good. If the spell hadn't worked, her molecules would've been scattered all over L.A. by now. She took the fact that she was still standing as a positive omen. But that optimism faded as the minutes passed with no sign of activity.

Ignoring the growls and tazer blasts behind her, Willow kept her eyes locked on the missile. She worried her lip, wondering if she'd cast the spell too early. Sweat trickled into her eye and she swiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

When Willow looked at the missile again she caught her breath; tiny golden fissures had appeared in the metal. She let out a long sigh. The entire casing began to bubble and crack, and a fiery red web spread across its surface. Willow watched the casing melt with awe and a deep primal fear that made her insides quiver. Leftover metal fragments puffed outwards like dandelion fluff, chased by an expanding core of molten energy which ate into the truck and the stone mansion.

She shuddered as raging fire carved into the night.

* * *

Buffy's tazer whined and went dead. She dumped the rifle and retrieved her spare, swinging around to nail a horned demon charging towards her. Faith was already on her second and last tazer; the slayers were taking the brunt of the attack since Angel and Spike had only a single tazer apiece. 

They'd fended off the first wave without taking any damage. The smarter, and therefore more dangerous, demons had stayed out of range once they saw what was happening. Course, there were still plenty of brain-deficient beasts happy to take on the role of cannon-fodder; most lay clumped together in unconscious heaps only metres away.

Spike had been all for taking them out permanently, but Buffy had nixed that idea. They couldn't risk any gaps in their defence; if even one demon got to Willow, it was game over.

With a wary eye on the demons, Buffy stretched her neck and shoulders. The attacks were sporadic for now, but once the tazers were exhausted, she figured this fight would get a lot more interesting.

With a start, Buffy realised that the demons' ugly mugs were becoming clearer; the night was receding. Glimpsing her shadow on the ground before her, she glanced over her shoulder. Willow was silhouetted against a mass of seething energy as bright as the sun. Buffy gulped, squashing down the urge to run away.

"Heads up!" Faith shouted.

Buffy whipped her head round. Faith was looking up to her right, where an enormous dragon was plunging out of the sky, its outstretched wings painted gold by the radiance. Buffy's mouth dropped open.

"Whoa, nelly!"

Opening its jaw, the dragon unleashed a burst of streaming flame. It hit the ground, angling directly towards Faith, Buffy and Angel. Buffy tumbled forward out of its path and felt a shower of hot gravel hit her back. As she came up on her feet she pumped a stream of electricity into the dragon's body. Another tazer blast came from Angel. The creature shrieked and wobbled but managed to flap up into the night.

Buffy did a rapid head check; Willow was untouched and looked as if she hadn't even moved, while Faith and Spike were firing at several demons who'd attacked during the dragon distraction. Beside her, Angel tracked its flight above. Judging from his eye movement, it looked as if the dragon was returning for another attempt at crispy fried slayer.

Angel slung his machete and tazer across his neck and shoulder. "Cover me," he said.

She narrowed her eyes. "For _what_?"

He morphed into game face and grinned down at her.

"Oh no," she said.

"Oh yes." He glanced up. "No time to argue."

Buffy looked up. The dragon was swooping in low at an oblique angle, avoiding the slow motion nuclear blast. "Damn it." She waited until it was in range, its jaws opening, and fired several bursts of electricity at it. Screaming, the dragon dodged her shots. She kept firing and managed to score a hit to its left wing.

For one heart-stopping second Buffy thought the dragon was going to crash into them, then it veered off, beating its wings to gain altitude. In a blur of motion Angel ran a short distance and rocketed up, snagging the creature's tail as it climbed into the night.

Knowing she had to compensate for Angel's absence, Buffy focused on the battlefield. The demons were advancing, sensing an opportunity. She, Faith and Spike shot the ones that ventured too close, holding them at bay.

Whenever she could Buffy scanned the sky, but all she saw was the occasional glimpse of crackling blue energy. Not enough to tell whether Angel was winning or...

A snake-headed demon rushed her, coming from her open left side. Buffy squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. Crapola. As the demon reached her she slammed the butt of the rifle into its scaly face, then kicked its knee. It hissed and fell, grabbing her leg and attempting to sink its fangs into her calf. Kicking free, she proceeded to beat the demon with the tazer until it came apart in her hands.

She dropped the pieces and unsheathed her sword, ready to face the onslaught. Except all the demons, the conscious ones anyway, were staring up at the sky. Buffy heard a high-pitched whistling sound. Looking up, she saw a huge dark shape plummeting towards the ground. She froze. It was the dragon, falling head first and obviously out of control.

"Angel..." she breathed.

Everyone took a time out as they waited for the inevitable. A split second later there was a mad scramble as some of the demons belatedly realised that they were standing in the hot zone. Ten metres above the ground, a smaller figure leapt clear of the dragon, sailing over the heads of a dozen demons and landing close to Buffy. The dragon hit the lawn with a loud and revolting splat, smushing several demons who were still trying to get out of the way. A shockwave shook the ground.

"Miss me?" Angel said. His tazer was missing, but he was gripping his machete, the blade dripping with rich blue blood.

"Freakin' showoff!" said Spike.

Angel grinned, his fangs gleaming.

Looking up at him, she quirked her mouth. "He's not wrong, you know."

"I know," Angel said, his grin widening. He raised his machete and faced the demons. Shaking her head, Buffy followed suit.

* * *

Willow was entranced. The energy was powerful, mind blowing; it pushed against her time spell like a living thing, stretching towards her. But the magic held, forcibly reining in the explosion. 

The energy expanded to fill her vision, until she could see nothing else. Yet she was paralysed by her own doubt, unable to make herself begin the transmutation. She'd been delusional to imagine she could control this kind of power. Darn it, why hadn't one of her dumbass friends stopped her?

She glimpsed platinum blond hair an instant before her head snapped to the right. "Hey!" Willow said, clutching her stinging cheek. "You hit me!"

Spike gave her a fierce shake. "Get on with it, you crazy bint, or we'll all going to die!" A second later he was gone, retaking his place in the line.

Willow took a steadying breath. Her confidence hadn't improved any, but there was no turning back now. She'd gotten her friends into this; she was going to have to get them out.

"World saveage. Right."

Before she could lose her nerve altogether, she began to draw on the mass of nuclear energy. Light, heat, radiation, sound -- she took it all, transforming the power into a more benign form. Willow used no spells or rituals. She simply imposed her will on the raw power, shaping and moulding it into what she desired. The energy bucked and flared, as if trying to escape, but once she started it was easier to continue, like initiating a chain reaction.

Willow drew the resultant white magic _into _her. Faster and faster it filled her up, and the more it did the more her confidence soared. Euphoria clouded her thoughts, and she had to struggle to keep her goal in mind. The ritual, she thought.

Action followed thought. She zeroed in on the magical imprint left by the ritual Vail had performed and tracked the lingering traces of magic. Leaving her physical form behind, she flew like a falcon, following the trail into the astral planes. Glimpsing blurry figures in the mists, she sped up. The magic she carried would be like a beacon to other entities and, though time didn't flow the same here as in the normal world, she couldn't risk any delay.

Soon she reached the other side and emerged into the netherworld, the space between dimensions. Here the breach was bared to her in all its malevolent glory; a vortex of powerful dark magic. Pausing for an instant, Willow recited a prayer to the Goddess, and plunged herself into the vortex. The magic smothered her, attacking her astral form, trying to consume her.

Suppressing the urge to flee back to her body, she released the energy she carried. It gushed out in a blinding flood, overwhelming the darkness. Willow guided the white magic, using it to both halt the flow of dark magic from the demon world and to purge Los Angeles of its evil taint. Once the barrier was established and the purification of the city was under way, Willow took a moment to survey her work.

She was pleased by what she saw. The tricky part was over, and there was only one thing left to do -- seal the breach. Willow considered her options as she studied it. The breach was basically a vast open wound created by a blood ritual. With any luck a super-powered healing spell should seal it.

Willow gathered up her reserves of power...and found that she had none. Her strength was almost exhausted. This couldn't be happening. Dismayed, she attempted the healing ritual anyway, but with no power, it fizzled.

She was so damn close she could've cried. If she didn't shut down the link between the two worlds, this whole nightmare would just start up again. Even now, she could feel the dark magic eating into the barrier like acid.

She needed power.

From what seemed like a galaxy away, she heard Faith shout. The slayer's voice sparked a flash of inspiration. Willow thought hard; she'd have to be careful not to take too much, and Angel and Spike were out because of their demonic natures. Still, she thought it should work, and in any case she didn't have a choice.

She reached out to Buffy and Faith.

* * *

The smell made her eyes water. The demons were bad enough; add in their secretions and innards and bodily fluids, and stinky didn't even begin to describe the odour. 

Buffy severed the bladed arm of a Minoc demon with her sword. It shrieked and she put it out of its misery by taking its head. She whirled, twirling her weapon and disembowelling a furry beast attempting to stalk her. Its slimy intestines gushed out over her Italian calf-skin boots. She grimaced. Figured.

Her ears rang with howls, vamp dustings, and the wet smacks of fists and weapons meeting flesh. The four of them had kept the demons from getting past them, but they'd taken their fair share of lumps in return. Angel's left arm was dangling uselessly. And Spike was sporting deep claw marks across his chest.

The light behind her was dying. Buffy assumed that meant Willow was succeeding, though she couldn't spare the time to look. As the nuclear light disappeared the moon reclaimed its dominance, casting its wintry blue radiance over the battlefield.

A demon covered in black feathers flapped its wings and took flight, coming in high. As it neared her, she leapt high, spinning horizontally in the air and slamming her boot into its beaky head. She landed on her feet and swung her sword, decapitating it. The body fell, leaving several feathers drifting to the ground.

Armed with sword and stake, Buffy fought on, dispatching demons as quickly as possible. They were way outnumbered, and would've been overrun were it not for the demons' lack of unity. On the crowded battlefield, it was not uncommon for two or more demons to start squabbling over who got first crack at one of the slayers or souled vampires.

Buffy was fighting two vamps when a rush of euphoria disoriented her. Her vision skewed and for a split second she lost track of her opponents. Out of nowhere a fist connected with her face. Already off-balance, she went down hard.

Tasting blood in her mouth, she saw one of the vamps lean over her. Despite the dizziness, her senses bore a heightened clarity she'd never experienced before. Fascinated, she watched the vampire's hungry expression change to confusion and then panic. He reeled backwards, whirled, and fled, disappearing from her sight.

Wave after wave of pulsing energy swept through her, as light as a summer breeze yet as powerful as a tsunami, bearing the sweet piquant flavour of strawberries. Buffy felt as if she were floating on a cloud of joy, and it was the closest she'd come to heaven since she'd been resurrected. She tried to cling to the sensation, to make it last, but eventually it diminished and then vanished altogether. Lying on her back, staring at the stars, she slowly became aware of gravel digging into her scalp.

Buffy sat up. She tried to stand, but her head spun. She tried to shake it off, but the dizziness only intensified, and she began to shiver. In her head she heard Willow's voice apologising and explaining. A memory surfaced as Buffy fell on her rump; meditating with Willow to help her heal herself.

Buffy dug her fingers into the gravel, unable to do anything else. After a while the world stopped spinning. She didn't know how much time had passed, but the lawn was deserted aside from corpses and assorted body parts. Close by, Angel was curled up on the ground. She crawled to his side and peered into his eyes.

"Angel, you okay? You didn't get too happy, did you?"

His smile was wistful. "No. I felt it, but so did the demon. It was too agitated for me to lose myself."

"Probably a good thing," she said after a pause.

"Yeah."

She touched his cheek in wordless sympathy and glanced round. Spike was sitting on the driveway looking spaced out and she started to go to him when she saw Faith's wary expression. The brunette slayer was staring at Willow.

"Hey, it worked," Willow said, tottering about with a surprised look on her face. Her knees buckled.

"Will!" Buffy yelled, but it was Faith who lunged forward and caught her. Cradling her head, Faith lowered her to the ground. Buffy, Angel and Spike crowded round.

Buffy knelt beside Willow and took her hand.

"You did it," Buffy said.

"_We _did it." Willow didn't just look tired, she looked _old_; her gaunt face was all pruney.

Buffy's stomach clenched. "Will, what did you do?"

Willow blinked. "Buffy, don't be mad. I had to."

"I'm not mad," she said, which was true enough. She was too frightened to be mad. Her mind raced. She could still feel Willow through their link and she knew intuitively what the witch needed. "It's going to be okay. All you have to do is take more of my strength."

"_Our _strength," Faith said.

"Taken enough," Willow said, her words slurring.

The connection between them began to fade. Buffy tried to hold onto it, but Willow's essence proved to be as elusive as the wind.

"Will!" In desperation, Buffy shook her.

"Tara..." murmured Willow, her eyes closing.

Buffy's heart skipped and her hands fell away from Willow. Faith swore. She shoved Buffy aside and grabbed Willow's shoulders.

"Red, you listen to me! I know you feel like you've done your time, like you've made up for all the bad stuff you did. I get it." Sucking in a shaky breath, Faith glanced up at Angel. "But like someone once told me, our time is never up." She shook Willow. "So snap out of this martyr crap!"

Willow remained limp, but she didn't withdraw any further. Buffy still felt connected. In a last ditch effort, she poured all her emotions into the link. Odd, random memories swirled through her head; asking Willow for homework help the day they met, Willow moping over Xander, venting to her about Angel, nights spent researching with Giles, and more; countless moments they'd spent together as friends, confidantes, and allies. The memories spun into an ever increasing tornado of emotion.

"Will, please," Buffy choked out. Angel gripped her shoulder in support.

"Come on, luv," muttered Spike.

Buffy felt a tickle in the back of her mind, like a soft caress. She braced herself for the worst, not daring to hope. But then, after what seemed like an eternity, she grew dizzy. Slumping in relief, Buffy glanced at Faith and noted her dazed eyes and pale face. Faith nodded at her and Buffy shared a relieved look with Angel and Spike.

A minute later Willow's eyes fluttered open, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She looked up at them and frowned. "You guys look terrible."

* * *


	12. Epilogue

* * *

At the edge of the camp, Xander lay on sweet-smelling grass, his hair still damp from a dip in the lake. He would've liked to have gone for a walk by his lonesome, but Illyria had reminded him that if and when the portal manifested it would be centred on him and his pretty bangle, so he'd settled for a sulk by his lonesome. 

It had been a week. Or so he thought. The copper-tinged sun had risen and set seven times, but he had no idea whether time ran the same in this world. Still, he figured it should've been over by now.

Some of his fellow campers believed that the world had been destroyed or overrun by demons. But Xander entertained no such doubts. Though he was worried about his friends, he knew in his heart that the world was safe. Buffy didn't lose. She might _die_, but she didn't lose.

A few days ago Xander had approached one of their hosts to ask for help in returning to Earth. Sayah, a young, silver-haired sprite, had been sympathetic, but had advised him to wait and see; in effect, blowing him off. As he swatted an insect buzzing around his face Xander thought it might be time to talk to her again -- before he ran out of fingernails to chew.

The breeze picked up, wafting a sweet fruity scent over him. Hmm, smells like strawberries, he thought. A sudden strong gust caused goosebumps to pop up on his bare arms. Weird. The weather was usually warm and stable, even during the nights. He sat up and looked around, immediately spotting the purple glow emanating from his wrist.

Xander shot to his feet. He danced about, not sure what to do. The camp was still in laze around mode, with people eating, sleeping or swimming in the lake; it didn't look as if anyone else had even noticed.

"Er, people?"

No one paid any attention. He rolled his eyes and turned his back. The hell with them. He pulled his army boots on and waited, his eye darting around him.

A golden sphere appeared only a metre away, scaring the bejeezus out of him. It hovered at chest height, rotating. Xander backed off, wary but hopeful. The sphere split into five smaller balls which spread out to form an arch.

The balls glowed and an arched doorway sprang out of nowhere, anchored in the meadow. Through it, Xander saw Willow, Buffy and Giles standing several metres back. They were flanked by Faith and half a dozen slayers on one side and an army unit on the other.

Xander stared, relief washing over him; everyone seemed to be okay. He couldn't see Angel and Spike, but that wasn't surprising considering the bright sunshine. They were standing on tarmac, he noticed. He scanned the mountains in the background and realised he was back where he'd started: Burbank Airport.

Faith detached herself from the group and strode to the portal, the slayers trailing after her like baby ducks. He shook off his trance and loped across the threshold. Faith grinned as they passed each other, and he heard her voice boom behind him.

"Okay, everyone! Party's over. It's time to go home."

Ignoring the watching soldiers, Xander ran to Buffy and Willow and threw his arms around them, squeezing until they squealed in protest.

"Xander, let go," Buffy said, her voice muffled.

"I swear, you two are gonna be the death of me," he said, releasing them. He checked them over, making sure they had all their fingers and toes.

Smoothing her hair, Willow grinned. "We missed you too." He was happy to see that her cheeks were full and pink, and she seemed to have more meat on her bones. As his gaze shifted between her and Buffy, his throat ached and his vision blurred at the edges.

"Hello, Xander." Giles's voice was tinged with amusement.

"Oh, hey Giles. Uh, I was just getting around to you." Blinking, he gave Giles a manly clap on the shoulder.

"Glad to know I'm not invisible," Giles said.

"Listen, I'm gonna go help Faith, and thank the Milusians," Willow said.

"I'll come with you," Xander said, not quite ready to let her out of his sight.

She patted his arm. "Don't worry, Xan. I'll be fine. That portal's not gonna budge until I close it."

Nodding, he managed a weak smile. She trotted to the portal, stopping as Connor hurtled across the threshold looking frantic. Willow grabbed his arms and touched his cheek, soothing him like she would a child. She pointed to a hangar across the tarmac and Connor took off like a jackrabbit.

Xander watched him cover the distance as fast as a slayer. Connor reached the hangar in seconds. Just inside, sheltered from the sun, a tall figure moved to embrace him.

Damn it, his eye was watering again. Must be dust or something in the air. Turning away, Xander saw the first civilians being guided through the portal by the slayers, among them the little girls who'd given him Willow's note and their mother. They exchanged enthusiastic waves with Buffy before being escorted by soldiers to army trucks.

"Er, is that a good thing?" Xander said.

"It's okay, Xander," Buffy said, linking arms with him. "They're just going to the terminal." She looked sheepish. "We're kinda working with the military."

He squinted. "Boy, you go to another world and everything changes!"

"Well, the partnership appears to be working thus far," Giles said. "In fact, we have slayers patrolling L.A. with the army right now."

Xander decided to reserve judgement and kept a cautious eye on the soldiers. He noticed an older man observing the proceedings. With his iron grey crew cut and ramrod straight spine, the officer wore an air of authority consistent with a bigwig.

"Who's the stiff?" Xander said.

"That's General Bryce," Giles said. "He's in charge of military operations."

"Good guy?"

Buffy and Giles exchanged a glance before she shrugged. "He's trying, I'll give him that."

"But?"

"He's nosier than Woodward and Bernstein," she said. "Keeps asking Willow how she neutralised the nuke."

Xander felt a frisson run down his back as her words sunk in. "So she really did it, huh?"

"Yeah." Buffy didn't elaborate. She flicked a brief glance at him, but looked away when he tried to catch her gaze. He made a mental note to ask her about it later.

Buffy pointed her chin towards the portal. "What do you suppose that's about?" she said.

On the other side, Willow and Faith were talking to Illyria. Willow had her back to them, but her hands were flitting here, there and everywhere.

"Bluebird's staying behind," Xander said.

Buffy blinked. "Where'd she get that bad idea from?"

He shrugged. "They invited her. Besides, maybe it's not such a bad idea. It's not like she belongs in our world any more."

"You're not concerned that she may disrupt _their _world?" Giles said, frowning.

"They use magic like we use electricity. I think they can rope her in if they have to," Xander said as he watched the three women.

The last of the civilians and slayers came through the archway, obstructing his view for half a minute before they were whisked away. When he saw them again Faith was talking to Illyria, the slayer's stance bordering on threatening. She ended her speech with a wag of her finger, took a last look round, and headed on back.

Willow pivoted and followed Faith, but a few steps short of the portal she stopped and ran back to give Illyria a swift hug. As Willow pulled away, Illyria's form briefly flickered to that of an elfin brunette with a sweet smile. Willow stilled, then turned and trotted through the arched doorway.

Glancing at General Bryce, Willow swivelled to face the portal. She held her arms out a little ways from her body, palms forward, and said something Xander couldn't make out. The portal began to close from the top down, as if a screen was being pulled over it. Willow backed up until she was standing beside Xander and grasped his hand. With Buffy and Willow flanking him, he felt the tension leave his shoulders for the first time in a week.

The doorway was only a few inches high when Willow snapped her head round to look at him. "Hey, what happened to the rental car?" she said.

Oh, man. It'd completely slipped his mind. Xander glanced at the portal in time to see it disappear into the tarmac. He flashed her a sheepish smile.

"Oops."

* * *

As Willow left the motel room, she spotted Faith and Spike fussing over their shiny new Yamahas. She smiled and strolled across the parking lot to join them. Warm evening air caressed her skin as she walked. 

"Hey, guys."

"Hey, I was just coming to find you," Faith said, shutting the rear compartment of her motorcycle. "To say goodbye."

"You're leaving?" Willow looked from one to the other.

Shrugging, Spike dropped his cigarette butt and ground it out with his boot. Wearing the new leather jacket he'd browbeat Giles into requisitioning, he looked like a bikie. "Figured we'd split before that army berk changes his mind."

"Oh." Willow frowned. "Does Buffy know?"

Faith raised her hands. "I already said my goodbyes. Spike, on the other hand..." She flapped her arms as if they were wings. "Pooock, pock, pock, pock."

"Ta, luv. I didn't get it the first five times," Spike said, throwing her a sour look. He glanced at Willow. "Buffy's made it pretty clear she's got nothing to say to me."

"But--"

"Leave it alone, Willow."

She sighed. "So where are you headed?"

"Got some unfinished business in Santa Fe," Faith said. "After that I'm gonna take a nice long vacation."

Nodding, Spike threw his leg over his bike. "Santa Fe's a good place to start. Then I'll see what takes my fancy."

Faith gave Willow a tentative smile. "Listen, Will...thanks. I know you went to bat for me."

Willow shrugged. "All I did was mention that the president owed us a humungous favour."

"Yeah, but you could have asked for anything," Faith said. She averted her gaze with an awkward laugh. "You could have asked for something _you _wanted."

"I did," Willow said.

Faith stared at Willow, who wore a genuine, if smug, grin. Eyes brighter than usual, the slayer swallowed.

Spike chuckled.

Willow took pity on her. "Hey, it's not like this is a freebie. You _earned _that pardon and that's exactly what I told General Bryce."

"Thanks, Will." Taking a step forward, Faith reached out to take Willow's hand. Willow would've liked to segue into a hug, but she held back, respecting Faith's boundaries. Instead she squeezed Faith's warm hand in return.

Glancing at Spike, Willow set her hands on her hips. "Don't think that you're getting away without giving me a hug, mister."

Though he moaned and grumbled, Spike obediently hopped off his bike. As they hugged she breathed in the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and leather.

"Tell Buffy I'll see her around, luv," Spike said before pulling away.

Willow smiled, blinking back tears as she watched Spike and Faith straddle their bikes. She couldn't help making a last attempt on Buffy's behalf.

"Spike, are you sure you don't wanna--"

The roar of Spike's motorcycle drowned her out. She shot him an exasperated look, but he merely grinned before peeling out of the parking lot. With a jaunty salute, Faith jammed her helmet on and set off after him.

Willow watched them until they were out of sight and sighed. She hated goodbyes.

* * *

"San Francisco, huh?" Buffy said, plopping down on one of the beds. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the gloomy motel room. For obvious reasons, the drapes were closed against the afternoon sun. 

Nodding, Angel sat down on the other bed. "Eventually. I mean, Connor and I need to talk to his 'family' first, but he'll be going back to Stanford in the fall. I wanna stay close for a while and since Giles is assigning slayers to L.A..."

"Yeah, us working with the military. I get goosebumps whenever I think about it."

"The good kind or the bad kind?"

Buffy tilted her head. "Jury's still out."

Angel chuckled. "You can always threaten to sic Willow on them. That oughta keep them in line."

With a nostalgic smile, Buffy remembered the general's face when Willow explained what had happened to the nuke; he'd looked as if he couldn't decide whether to kiss her feet or pee his pants. Good times.

"I don't know what the demon population's like in San Francisco," Angel said, "but I'm sure I could get away for a few weeks." His shoulders tensed. "Maybe even...visit Rome?"

Buffy smiled. "Maybe you'll actually stop and say hello next time."

Angel relaxed, and smiled too. "I'll do that." He gazed down at the patchy maroon carpet. "So you and the Immortal, you're really not..."

"Nope."

He hesitated. "From what Andrew said, it seemed like you were close."

"It was heading that way," she admitted. "He's an interesting guy. Not to mention an incredible kiss--"

"Okay, okay, I get it." Angel swatted the air as if to ward off the mental image. "So what happened?"

"He made the mistake of trying to tell me what to do, or rather what not to do." Buffy gave a rueful shrug. "He thought it was undignified for _his _girlfriend to go chasing past lovers. Wanted me to let _him _handle it." She snorted. "As if."

"Oh good." He caught himself. "I mean, sorry...that it didn't work out."

"Yeah, I can see you're real broken up about it."

They smiled at each other, enjoying the moment. After a minute Buffy stood.

"I guess I should let you finish packing," she said.

Angel rose. "I don't have much."

"I know, but..." Buffy made a vague gesture, leaving unsaid that she didn't want this farewell to get any harder.

Angel nodded, understanding. "Right."

He walked her to the door, and as he placed his hand on the knob, she rose on her toes, intending to peck him on the cheek. At least, that's what she thought she'd intended, but whether by his design or hers, her mouth met his cool lips.

She froze. His mouth moved against hers, soft and firm, but he didn't press. Always the gentleman. After a moment Buffy relaxed and kissed him back, sliding her arms around his neck.

Heat spread through her belly and down her legs as his hands stroked her back. She was tempted. Oh boy, was she tempted. But this wasn't the time or the place. Buffy licked his inner lip and regretfully broke the kiss.

Panting, she rested her forehead on his unmoving chest. "Uh, you know what I said about the Immortal being a good kisser? Never mind."

She felt Angel chuckle. Stepping away, she smiled up at him. He wore what could only be described as a cat that ate the canary grin.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead before opening the door, careful to stay in its shadow.

Buffy stood drenched in sunlight. "So I guess I'll be seeing you."

"Definitely," Angel said. As she started to leave he added, "Oh, by the way, tell Xander we're even."

Dazzled by the sunshine, she couldn't make out his expression, but he seemed sheepish. "What are you--" she said.

"It's nothing...important." Angel shuffled his feet. "Just...tell him, okay?"

"Okay." She shook her head as she stepped outside. Men.

* * *

Xander grinned when Buffy relayed the message the next morning. "Hah. He wishes." 

"What am I missing?" Buffy said as she tossed her backpack into the SUV. She glanced back into the open motel room. "Willow, come on!"

"Oh, it's a man thing. You wouldn't understand," Xander said. "Let's just say that he's going to regret foiling my plans." Twirling an imaginary moustache, he let out an evil laugh that went on and on and on. Half a minute later he caught sight of Buffy's face and stopped. "Too much?"

She lifted her eyebrows. "Ya think?"

Lugging a duffle bag, Willow appeared in the doorway. She looked disappointed. "Oh. I thought I heard your evil genius impression." She shut the motel door and came over to offload her bag. "I'll just drop off the keys. Be back in a sec." She trotted over to the office.

Xander slammed the rear hatch and leaned against the vehicle, his eye on Willow. Nestling beside him, Buffy rested her head against his shoulder.

"Relax, Xan, she's not even leaving the parking lot."

"I know, but she almost..." He swallowed and glared at her, his eye like onyx. "And I wasn't there."

"And you should've been, I know." She looked up at him. "But you don't know what it feels like to know that it was my decision that cost you your eye. I'm sorry, I just couldn't risk you getting hurt again."

He opened his mouth and closed it, then looked away and shook his head. When he looked back his expression was sympathetic. "Okay, I get what you're saying. But you're not my mother, Buffy. I made my choice a long time ago, and if you have any respect for me at all, you need to honour that choice."

Her mouth fell open. Xander goofed around so much she tended to forget what an impressive man he'd grown into. When she didn't answer straight away he cleared his throat expectantly.

Buffy shook herself. "You're right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." She took a deep breath and looked Xander in the eye. "I'm sorry."

He stared at her. "Accepted."

"And the next time we risk death and dismemberment, I'll make sure you're right there with us."

"Damn straight."

Willow exited the office, Giles in tow, and they made their way over.

"Morning," said Giles. "You're ready to go, then?"

"More than ready," Buffy said. "Chomping at the bit...except without the bit."

Xander squinted. "You sure you can handle General Bryce and his band of merry men?"

"I'm sure we'll be fine. Besides, I believe there's a deadline to consider," Giles said, raising his eyebrows at Willow.

She pouted. "I don't think that general liked me."

"Yes, well, I believe that had more to do with your power than your personality."

"You did take out one of their most powerful nukes, Will," Buffy said.

"Still, kicking me out of the country? That's not gratitude. That...that's the opposite of gratitude," Willow said, her voice high and indignant.

Buffy patted her shoulder. "Don't worry. Once they see you haven't levelled Europe to the ground, they'll let you back in."

"You know," Xander said, rubbing his chin, "maybe you should've asked for more free stuff."

"Xander, that wouldn't have been ethical," Willow said.

"This is America. If you can't cash in on saving the world here, where can you?"

Willow eyed the Hawaiian shirt he was wearing. "We got plenty of free stuff, not to mention a presidential pardon. I think we came out ahead."

"Yes," said Giles. "It was very generous of you to put Faith's needs ahead of your own."

"Well, I do kinda owe her. But, more importantly, she deserves it."

Buffy swallowed. "She brought you back."

"No, Buffy," Willow said with a serene smile. "Faith made me listen. _You _brought me back."

"Really?" Buffy perked up.

"Yep. You reminded me that there are still people in this world that I care about." Willow's eyes flitted to Xander and Giles.

Buffy smiled, looking round at her dearest friends. They were all so busy these days it was rare to be in the same place at the same time. It had been nice while it lasted.

Willow coughed, breaking the spell. "I gotta say, though, I think Faith missed her calling as a motivational speaker."

Buffy snickered.

"She's way scarier than Tony Robbins, that's for sure," Xander said, grinning.

Giles cleared his throat. "Xander, before you leave we need to discuss the Masai slayer you recruited. Apparently she's been giving Rona quite the headache."

"Sure thing, Boss Man."

"Xander, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, don't call me..."

The two men strolled away, deep in conversation.

Buffy's gaze drifted to the spot where Spike's motorcycle had been parked. "I can't believe he left without saying goodbye."

Willow shuffled to the SUV and propped herself next to Buffy. "I think he was feeling hurt...you know, cause you were being all avoidy."

Buffy made a face. "I didn't know what to say."

"Okay, but you still owed him a little one-on-one time. Buffy, this was the first time you'd seen each other since he died."

"I was working my way up to it," Buffy said. Willow gave her a knowing look. "I know, I know, I'm a cowardy custard. But how was I to know he was just gonna take off. And with Faith!"

"Jealous?" Willow said with a toothy grin.

"Shut up," Buffy said, pouting.

Willow chuckled. "Well, he knows where to find you. And if you ever wanna find him, you've got your handy dandy Spike detector."

Buffy raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Me," Willow said.

"Right," Buffy said, nodding. "Cause of the magic."

"That's what I'm known for." Willow frowned. "Buffy, are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she said in a casual tone.

"Cause the last couple weeks you've been walking around with this intense look on your face, like you're trying to use your heat vision or something. I figured you'd talk to me when you were ready, but..."

Buffy glanced at Xander and Giles; their animated discussion didn't look to be ending any time soon. She took a deep breath and pushed off the SUV to face Willow.

"You're right," Buffy said. "Something has been bugging me."

"Is it Spike?" Willow scrutinised her. "Or Angel? It's not Xander, is it? Cause I know he's been ups--"

"It's you, Will."

Her eyes widened. "Me?"

"That night in L.A...you really scared me."

Shifting her shoulders, Willow shot a nervous glance at Xander and Giles. "Well, that kinda comes with the territory, Buff."

Buffy shook her head. "It's not how close you came to dying, it's how close you came to giving up."

Willow bit her lip. "It didn't feel that way. It felt like...like I was doing a good thing. I mean, I tried to destroy the world. That's a lot to make up for." She shrugged. "I guess I went a bit overboard."

Buffy nodded in sympathy. She hesitated. "So this wasn't about Tara?"

"No," Willow said with a sad smile. "I still miss her, I always will, but...I'm moving on. I think it's what she would've wanted."

"I think you're right." Buffy rested her hand on Willow's shoulder. After a moment she said, "And for what it's worth, I think what you did here earned you about a gazillion Brownie points."

"Really?"

"Really."

Willow brightened. "Thanks, Buffy."

Buffy smiled back. Everyone she loved was safe, and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.

Life was sweet.

* * *

Bertha was having a crappy day, and it wasn't even noon. First Maria had called in sick, leaving them short a staff member, then her supervisor had taken off for a long lunch (translation: she was at a motel boinking the lover her husband didn't know about). To top it all off, John had called to cancel their date tonight. 

So when two young women came in to return a car, or as it turned out, to _not _return a car, Bertha was not happy.

"You lost the car?" she said.

The redhead nodded.

"You mean it was stolen?"

"Nope," the blonde said.

Bertha sighed. Why her? "How in God's name do you lose a car?"

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you." The blonde woman examined her fingernails. "What does it matter? We're covered by the insurance, right?"

Grinding her teeth, Bertha gathered the necessary forms. "Fill these out," she said to the redhead, who accepted the proffered pen with a nervous smile.

While the redhead filled out the paperwork, the blonde treated Bertha to a vapid smile. As soon as the young woman had signed everything, Bertha snatched the forms away and checked them over.

"So...we're done?" said the redhead.

"Yes," Bertha said, inwardly adding "you brainless bimbos".

As if she'd read her mind, the blonde responded with an amused look. "Great. Thanks a bunch."

"Yeah, thanks," said the redhead. "Um, sorry 'bout the car."

Bertha stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "Right." She plastered a fake smile on her face. "Have a nice day."

The pair turned and walked away in the direction of the departure terminals. Watching them go, Bertha saw the blonde put her arm around the redhead's waist.

"You know, Will, there's something I've been meaning to give you," the blonde said, slipping her hand beneath the other girl's waistband.

As they rounded a corner Bertha heard a loud yelp.

"Buffy!"

Bertha pursed her lips. So they were one of _those _couples. Shaking her head, she filed the paperwork away.

End

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone, especially those of you who've been reading this story since I posted the very first chapter. It's been a long journey, I know. Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, I can't tell you how much I appreciated your comments. 


End file.
